Being True by Jacob Z. Flores Page A

in their seats, didn’t grimace and turn away. Some smiled begrudgingly while others went out of their way to say hello as I passed.
    I was thankful I made it to my seat without passing out. This sudden change was freaking me out. I had experience with scorn and derision. I could deal with that. But to suddenly be someone after a long stretch of being no one set my head spinning.
     
     
    I T WAS one of the craziest days I’d ever had at school. In each class, students who’d been ignoring me since day one were asking me questions about homework or my weekend as if we’d gone to middle school together. Even at lunch, Claudia and I had to contend with people asking to join us at the bench in the quad that had been exclusively ours the past few months.
    Lunch had turned into musical chairs with new people constantly filling up the vacant spots. I’d never been more exhausted in my life.
    Claudia hadn’t been pleased with the sudden introduction of new people. As a fellow outcast, she detested most of the classmates who talked to us. Probably because they were primarily conversing with me and excluding her.
    “That was such a good article you wrote,” Alison Gutierrez said. She was one of the really popular girls, who counted Rance’s girlfriend, Lucy, as one of her best friends. And like most of the popular girls, Alison wore too much makeup to try and look older and blonde highlights in her hair. It was as much a uniform as a cheer skirt or a baseball jersey.
    Alison purposely fanned open the paper in front of Claudia’s face. Only my reassuring hand on hers kept Claudia from tearing it from Alison’s grasp and leaping across the table. “You really got me excited about baseball season. When does it start again?”
    I gently moved the paper out of Claudia’s way before responding. “I don’t remember. I’m not good at dates, but Claudia here has everything memorized.” I refused to play high school politics. Claudia was my friend, and I wasn’t going to exclude her from any conversation. The slight flicker of the hate-fueled inferno that burned in her gaze revealed Claudia appreciated the gesture, but she was only a few seconds away from turning into the girl in Stephen King’s Firestarter . “Do you remember?” I asked, hoping to delay the body count.
    “March 2,” Claudia said through gritted teeth.
    “That sucks,” Stephanie Gonzales said, jutting out her lower lip. Not as popular or as thin as Alison or Lucy, Stephanie was a lackey who did as she was told. That was why she was allowed to hang with the cool crowd. She had yet to be given permission to be a cool girl clone. Stephanie’s makeup was more moderate, and her dark hair was highlight free. “That’s too long to wait.”
    “Well, baseball is a spring game,” Claudia said in a tone that bit deeper than the hungry zombie on her shirt.
    “Tell me something I don’t know,” Alison replied. Her red lips gathered into a smirk.
    “How much time do you have?” Claudia asked.
    Stephanie glanced down at her watch. “Not too long. Lunch ends in about ten minutes.”
    Alison glared at Stephanie, who clearly had no idea what she’d just done. Claudia, however, howled in laughter.
    “What’s so funny?” someone asked behind us. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Only one person on this planet was capable of making me feel like a helium-filled balloon.
    “Javi!” Stephanie said. She grinned broadly like an idiot. She was obviously yet another girl who longed to sample Javi’s offerings. I couldn’t help but feel somewhat territorial. As if Javi belonged only to me and I should gouge out her eyes with the plastic spoon she ate her yogurt with.
    “Let’s take a selfie!” Alison said as she stood. She crossed to Javi and wrapped her arms around his waist as she held her phone above them at a slight angle. She puckered her lips into a duck bill. Why was this look so popular with girls my age? It made them look silly, not