Chapter 7: Sandwiches and Sabotage
The next day, my new desk partner, the study committee member, brought me two breakfast sandwiches.
They were wrapped in wax paper, the smell of melty American cheese and sausage making my mouth water. I looked at him, surprised.
"Are these for me?"
He grinned, the kind that crinkled his eyes. “Yeah. As a thank you. I owed you one for the vocab help.”
He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, as a thank you."
I tried not to look too eager as I accepted them, my fingers brushing his. Nobody had ever brought me breakfast before—except Grandma.
I carefully accepted them with both hands, whispering, "Thank you."
The sandwiches were small, but they felt huge in my hands. I wondered if they’d taste as good as they smelled.
Every delicious food deserves to be treated with reverence.
For a second, I felt normal, like just another girl on a regular morning.
Suddenly, a not-so-loud laugh came from beside us.
I turned and there he was—Jason. His hoodie zipped up high, leaning over our desks with that old, infuriating smirk.
Jason had his school hoodie zipped up to his chin, hands propped on the study committee member's desk, sizing him up.
He looked us both up and down, a mean gleam in his eye. His presence sucked the air right out of the room.
"Dude, I never thought you had such... unique taste."
He dragged out the words, each one sharper than the last. I could feel my face go red.
There was a clear malicious glint in his eyes.
It was the kind of look that dared you to fight back, but you knew you’d lose.
The study committee member's eyes narrowed. "Jason, what do you mean?"
His jaw tightened, and he straightened his shoulders. It was the first time I’d seen anyone talk back to Jason in public.
Jason tossed a stack of postcards onto our desks. The women on them were all extremely overweight, their flesh almost spilling out of the pictures.
The cards landed with a slap. My heart sank when I realized what was on them.
"For you."
Jason looked lazy and casual, staring down at him. "Isn't this your type? Want me to bring you a poster tomorrow?"
His voice was so nonchalant, like he was talking about the weather. It made the insult sting even more.
The study committee member suddenly pushed back his chair and stood up, his face dark with anger. He shouted, "Who the hell likes pigs?"
Chairs screeched. The whole class stared, some kids smirking, others looking away.
Jason didn't get angry. He just raised his eyebrows and said slowly, "Oh. I saw you switch seats and thought you liked her. Isn't that it?"
Jason’s friends snickered in the background, fanning the flames. My pulse pounded in my ears.
Jason's friends chimed in, making us the center of attention again.
A couple of guys started chanting, “Oink oink!” under their breath. I tried to disappear.
The study committee member cursed under his breath. Without another word, he picked up his desk and moved back to his old seat.
He didn’t look at me. He didn’t look at anyone. He just grabbed his stuff and dragged it away, his face still burning red.
They acted like I was invisible, but every jab landed right on me.
I stared at the pile of postcards. My hands shook as I shoved them into my backpack, out of sight. The breakfast sandwiches sat in my lap, growing cold.
My gaze fell on the scattered postcards, and the sandwiches in my hand went cold without a single bite.
For the first time, I couldn’t even bring myself to eat. I just sat there, staring at nothing, wishing I could turn invisible for real.
Before Jason left, I finally spoke up.
My voice was thin and shaky. I didn’t even recognize it as my own.
"Why do you have to do this?"
I looked up, my eyes stinging with tears. Jason paused, his expression unreadable.
Jason stopped and stood beside me. He looked up, his gaze drifting lightly toward the back bulletin board.
He stared at the tacked-up flyers, not at me. The silence stretched between us.
He didn't answer, but asked instead, "What, are you that desperate for love? You can give your all to every desk partner?"
The words hit me like ice water, sharp and cold. I bit my lip to keep from crying in front of him.
Continue the story in our mobile app.
Seamless progress sync · Free reading · Offline chapters