“What did you say?” Mr. Welsh’s voice shook with anger.
Oh God, she was out of control. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” The words flew from her lips. “I’m not leaving.” Her voice and body trembled, tears threatened to fall, and her lips kept moving. “I don’t deserve this.” Lola’s voice cracked.
The history teacher’s lips thinned. “Now you have detention too. Go to the office. Now.”
The impulse to throw something was strong and Lola’s fingers tightened on her books. Mr. Welsh stared her down and she finally moved. Lola avoided the stunned eyes of her classmates and hurried from the room.
Once outside, she leaned against a row of lockers and let her head drop back against the cool metal. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. What had she just done? What had she said? What was wrong with her? She didn’t do things like that; she didn’t have outbursts like that.
“Lola?” a small voice spoke.
A hand lightly touched her arm and Lola jerked away from the contact.
“Are you okay?” Concern pooled within the chocolate depths of Rachel Conrad’s eyes.
Sweet, friendly Rachel. They were once close friends, but didn’t talk much anymore outside of school. Rachel was one of those people who never had a bad thing to say about someone, who always saw the good in a person, even when it was hard to find.
Rachel was short and thin with short brown hair. She habitually wore black and today was no different. She had on a black turtleneck and black slacks. The only splash of color was her blood red heels.
Lola glanced down at her plain purple long-sleeved tee, dark jeans, and tennis shoes. She felt underdressed next to Rachel. Not that she had money to buy clothes like hers anyway.
“What are you doing out here?”
Rachel had a loving mother and father, a younger brother and sister who looked up to her. She was praised instead of put down, she was hugged and told she was loved. She was safe. Rachel couldn’t understand what it was like.
“I volunteered to make sure you made it to the office, but really I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She wanted to disappear, to vanish, to no longer be. “I’m fine.” Lola turned toward the office.
“Lola.”
Lola stopped, but didn’t face Rachel. “What?”
“Nothing. Nevermind.” Rachel’s voice was tired.
She hesitated. They used to tell each other everything, just a year ago. She closed her eyes against a wave of tears. So much had changed. Lola had lost so much.
Lola remembered the carefree, unimportant conversations they used to have that had been so vital to them. The giggles they’d shared. Their shopping adventures at the mall in the next city over. She missed all that, but most of all she missed the illusion of safety she’d had.
Rachel’s mother was a secretary at a law office; her father worked construction. They were by no means rich, but they were stable and happy. They had family meals and family game nights. They asked how everyone’s day was and listened when one responded. They were on another planet from Lola.
Lola gave herself a mental shake and went to the office.
***
Lola spent detention in the library, doodling on her notebook once her homework was finished. The room smelled musty and had pale wood paneling on the walls. There were five computers, lots of books, and Mrs. Horton. The librarian had to be in her seventies, but rumor had it she refused to retire. Lola wondered if eventually she’d just be kicked out of the school.
She sat behind her desk, plump and red curly-haired, dressed in a black and pink floral print top and green slacks. Lola watched out of the corner of her eye as she shoved candy bars in her mouth and chewed away.
Her stomach grumbled and Lola realized she hadn’t eaten since the granola bar she’d choked down at lunch.
Lola and one other boy were in there. He stared at her and she ignored him. He had shaggy black hair, pale green eyes, and a surly disposition. Lola couldn’t remember his name, but she knew he was a senior like Sebastian and he got in trouble a lot. The boy was a loner, kept to himself. Lola didn’t think he had many friends, if any.
A lot like you.
His jeans were always holey, his shirts black or red or some other dark color, and he liked to draw disturbing things.
“Time to go,” Mrs. Horton announced at exactly five o’clock.
Lola packed her things up and shoved them in her backpack, intent on getting out of the school and away from the creepy boy as quickly as she could.
Her footsteps echoed down the empty hallway. It was odd to be there afterhours and see the darkened, uninhabited rooms. It made her think of scary movies with predators lurking in dark corners and shadows. Lola shivered and picked up her pace.