Omega(85)

                He squinted a little bit through his glasses, adjusting them to look at me. “That’s the gist, I guess. Some less flattering, more succinct ways it’s put, but you captured the common theme there.”

                “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,” I said, and took a bite of my bacon.

                He faltered, as though he was going to walk away, but he didn’t. “But you’ve got friends. You’ve got people who seem to enjoy your presence, so I’m guessing you’re not like that all the time, at least not with everybody. I don’t see you act like that with your boyfriend.”

                “You’re rapidly entering the territory of being a creepo,” I said, looking up, taking my coffee and sipping it while I watched him through half-closed eyes. “Why are you watching me?”

                “I’m not stalking you or anything,” he said, unabashed. I was a little put off by his self-assurance; it was annoying. “We eat in the same place every day, so it’s not like it takes a special effort on my part to look across the cafeteria and notice the difference between how you are when your friends are around, and how you are when I run into you elsewhere on campus.” He laughed, mirthless. “I saw you stomp your foot and make a move toward a lower classman a few weeks ago. We all laughed at him, because he almost soiled his pants. People are scared of you, and you want ‘em to be scared. Why?”



                             “Maybe I had a rough childhood,” I said, not really believing that was an excuse, but wishing he’d take it and leave me the hell alone.

                “Maybe a lot of people did,” he said, not moving.

                “True,” I said, “but I’m not in charge of their lives.”

                “Do you...” He paused. “Do you really just want to be left alone?”

                “Right now? Yes.” I sipped my coffee.

                “I see.” A nod of the head. “Is it because you genuinely always want to be alone, or is it because I’m asking you questions that are making you really uncomfortable?”

                I sighed and set my coffee down. My appetite was dwindling from annoyance. “Are you some kind of shrink in training? Did Dr. Zollers have a powerful influence on you before he left? Give you direction for your life? Or are you just incredibly nosy and personally grating?”

                “I’m just curious about you,” he said, and didn’t even bother to blush. “Is that wrong? I watch you, I think you’re pretty, the other guys think you’re pretty, but everyone but the upper echelon is scared to death of you—all the underclassmen, hell, even the cafeteria workers.” He waved a hand around. “And you don’t seem to give a damn about your bad reputation.”

                “What can I say? I was inspired by Joan Jett.”

                “Why?” He looked at me, and I caught a hint of something in his eyes, some undying curiosity, and in his mousy face there was something else, something unplaceable and yet familiar. And oddly cute, in a deeply annoying way. “Why are you trying so hard to keep everyone at a distance? You’re the leader of the second generation M-Squad...you’re looked up to and feared by every one of the kids at school here. Why don’t you care? Why do you want everyone at arms length?”



                             “Listen, kid...” I put aside my annoyance. “What’s your name?”

                He looked around, as if afraid someone would hear him. “Joshua. Josh. Harding.”