Uninvited (Uninvited, #1)(45)
No one really notices me, sitting alone in my car, watching the swarm of students. I start the car and listen to the radio. One guy races across the parking lot, his letterman jacket a blur as he grabs a cheerleader off her feet. He twirls her, sending her little yellow-and-blue-pleated skirt flying around her tan legs. She swats his back, laughing, loving the attention.
Several of her friends look on enviously. I stare with a hollowness in my heart. I used to be that girl with the envious friends, the coveted boyfriend, a bright future. It had all been an illusion. None of it real. Just as I hadn’t been real. If my life had been real, if it amounted to anything, it would have survived a DNA test that declared me potentially dangerous. I’d still have that boyfriend, those friends, the life that was going somewhere. I have to make my own way now, figure out a new future.
The students thin out. I tap my fingers against the steering wheel and keep an eye on the clock. When it’s finally time, I turn off the car and get out. Coco and I enter the building almost simultaneously. She forgoes her usual pattern of ignoring me and stares openly.
When I meet her gaze, she gives me a slight nod and falls into step beside me. “It’s a good look on you.”
Unbelievable as it seems, I smile.
I realize I forgot to pack a lunch when Brockman announces that everyone can eat. I continue working on my assignment, not lifting my head. Not even when I hear the metallic clang of the door.
“Did you hear me, Hamilton?” He nudges my shoulder, and I pull away sharply in the opposite direction. He never touches me when Sean’s around. I wince at the realization, wishing there was something I could do to earn the same results. Sean can’t be around all the time. “Time for lunch. I’m not going to let you eat later. This is your one chance. Don’t think that mark on your neck changes anything. It doesn’t impress me—”
“I don’t have a lunch,” I interject, hoping to end his diatribe. Did he really think I thought this mark on my neck would earn me better treatment?
He grunts and mutters something. I can’t understand him. I’m just glad when he walks away.
A few moments pass and Gil slides into the desk in front of me. Facing me, he hands me half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
I look from the half sandwich to his earnest face, hesitating before saying, “I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are. Take it.”
“I don’t need your pity. I’m not starving. I just forgot to pack my lunch today.”
“It’s not pity. It’s food. Take it.”
Feeling a little silly for being so unfriendly to one of the only nice people I’ve met since this all started, I take the sandwich and bite into it. Instantly, the sweetness of the jelly floods my taste buds, and the peanut butter sticks to the roof of my mouth.
“I don’t think I’ve eaten peanut butter since I was ten,” I get out around a gooey mouthful.
He pats his almost concave stomach. “Lines your belly.”
I point. “What belly?
“Oh, this belly can put away more food than you probably eat in a month. It’s an endless pit.”
“And that’s just tragically unfair.”
He starts digging around in his brown paper sack. “I’ve got cheese puffs in here, pickles, fruit snacks, a couple of Snickers, and three pudding cups.”
I gawk at the load he starts spreading out on my desk.
He motions before him. “Help yourself.”
After a moment, I pick up one of the fruit snacks and tear the wrapper. “Your parents must have one hell of a grocery bill.”
“It’s just my mom. And she’s actually the manager at the convenience store where I work.”
“I didn’t realize she works there.”
He leans in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone, but she sneaks me the candy bars.” He points to his drink. “Sometimes she even scores Gatorade.”
I nod with mock seriousness. “Perks of the trade.”
“Precisely.”
He sobers. “Soon, I’ll be able to reap the benefits, too. She’s almost convinced the owner to promote me from stock boy to cashier when I graduate.”
He looks genuinely pleased. I bend the corner of the spiral notebook on my desk, looking at him quizzically. “Is that what you want to do when you get out of here?”
He gives me a funny look. “C’mon, Davy. You know it has nothing to do with what any of us want. Did you want that on your neck?”
I resist the urge to touch my neck, as if I can feel the thing he sees, like a serpent wrapping around my throat. It’s easy to forget it’s there during the course of the day. Until someone reminds you.
“You’re going to have to think beyond this room and what comes after. There are limitations.”
What comes after . . .
I nod slowly. Of course, he’s right. I need to start planning. Before, my whole life had a plan. Ever since I was three I knew my destiny. And now that plan is dead, gone. If Gil is to be believed, I can’t aspire to any type of high-level position. A bitter taste fills my mouth. Maybe I can live at home forever. Or in the pool house when Mitchell finally gets his act together and moves out. The very possibility makes me feel slightly ill. It’s so far from the dreams I had for myself.
The door clangs. I turn. Sean steps inside. I don’t look away. Not like before. Not anymore. After yesterday, I don’t need to look away anymore. If not friends exactly, we’re at least friendly. This conviction grows as I meet his gaze head-on.
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