“Okay. Promise you won’t laugh.” I pointed at them.
Ryan crossed his heart. Emily crossed her fingers, laughing already. Alana and David waited patiently.
“I’m…from Australia.” Almost closing my eyes, I awaited the onslaught of giggling—but they just gawked at me.
“No way? You’re all the way from Oz? You’re totally like Dorothy,” Ryan said.
“Yeah, and that makes David Toto.” Emily laughed.
“Yeah, um, Dorothy was from Kansas,” I said. “If anything, I’d be the Cowardly Lion.”
“No, the Tin Man. Didn’t that Aussie guy play the Tin Man in that movie?” Emily looked up at the ceiling as though her answer would be there.
“No way—Tin Man? Ara has too much heart,” Alana added. “You saw her play the piano?”
Mockingly, I tilted my head and sighed. “Aw, thanks.”
When Alana ditched a piece of lettuce at me, David’s hand shot out and caught it—right in front of my face. My mouth dropped and everyone else burst out laughing. “Nice catch, David.”
“Yeah, he used to play baseball,” Emily said.
“Really?” I turned to look at him.
“It was—” he stood up and reached across the table to drop the lettuce on Alana’s plate, “—a long time ago.”
“So, all the way from Australia, hey? You don’t sound Australian,” Emily said.
“Actually, I do. Just not so much anymore.” I smiled softly. “I’ve spent the last month or so working on my accent, but you can hear it when I get upset.”
David shifted in his chair.
“Are you ashamed of it?” Alana asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “I just didn’t wanna draw any extra attention to myself.”
“So, is it different over there to, like, how school is here?” Emily held a forkful of carrot just in front of her mouth.
“Yeah. In ways. I mean, we have our school year from January to December and we break over summer as well, except it’s over Christmas.”
“Christmas in summer?” Ryan stared into the distance. “Weird. But cool.”
“Actually, it’s not cool,” I said. “It’s really bloody hot.”
Emily and Ryan stared at me blankly.
Alana stifled a soft giggle. “Summer is hot, Ryan?” She nudged his arm. “Not cool?”
I looked at David, who shook his head. Emily and Ryan did the same, half smiling.
“Okay, that goes in the vault as the worst joke of the week.” Ryan pointed at me again with his ketchup-covered chip.
I feigned insult.
“But you did sound very Australian when you said bloody,” Emily added.
David chuckled beside me.
“Yeah, say it again?” Ryan leaned forward, turning his ear toward me, making a funnel of his hand.
“She’s not a circus freak, Ryan.” Emily pushed his hand down.
“Thanks,” I mouthed, and with my belly full, all my pre-rehearsed questions came flooding back. “So, where do you guys normally sit?”
“Well,” Emily chimed in, “David sits with the giant, incredibly gorgeous guys throwing food at each other.” She grinned at David. “More like monkeys, really. And I sit with that group out there by the tree.” She pointed to the windows covering the back wall of the cafeteria. Outside, in the sunshine, a large group of cliché-ridden boys and girls gathered under a big oak tree, laughing and throwing water.
David leaned closer and whispered, “Second in command.”
I wondered where that placed me if I hung out with one from each group.
Emily’s voice trailed back in suddenly with my attention span. “Ryan hangs out on the basketball courts, mostly.” She looked at Ryan for confirmation; he shrugged with a small nod. “And Alana hangs with those guys.” She pointed to the Music class kids.
“Cool.” I nodded. “Well, thanks for keeping me company today, you guys. I would’ve felt like a total loser sitting by myself.”
“That would never happen.” Emily tilted her head to the side. “Someone would’ve come and talked to you. If they could get past David, that is.” She threw him a mock annoyed stare.
David grinned and leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. “Can you blame me? I kinda like fresh meat.”
I inched away from him jokingly, and a sudden whoosh of air brushed past my hair, impacting something that screeched loudly. Silence washed over the room. We all turned to the kid behind us, who sat straight again, rubbing his head.
“What gives?” His friend stood up, aiming his voice at the jocks.
“What up, losers? Mommy forget to pack your helmet?”
Apple pulp covered the chess club boy’s hair and shoulders, while the remainder of the offending fruit rolled around on the ground just near his feet. “That’s it,” he said, and with teeth tight in his mouth, jumped up and grabbed the apple.
“Just leave it, Dominic. It’s not worth it,” one of his friends said.
“No. I’m sick of this.” His knuckles turned white around the apple.
No one in the room seemed to have moved; I think they were bracing for an all-out war. But someone should have done something. If even one person stood up for that boy, just once, maybe those jerks would leave him alone.
I pushed my chair out, and as I took a step toward him, Emily squeaked, “David? Don’t!”
My eyes flicked from the apple that was in Dominic’s hand, to the other side of the cafeteria where juice rained in a shower over the jocks, a million tiny pieces of apple sticking to the wall behind them.
A cool silence lingered.
David’s arm came back down to his side, his shoulder still leaned into the throw, when the whole room erupted—every person, sitting or standing, started clapping and cheering. Even the helmet-comment jock raised his thumb.
David took a few pats on the back and shook a few hands, and when he looked at me again, his eyes betraying fake amusement by displaying anger, I closed my gaping mouth and walked up to the chess-kid. “Hey? Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he moaned and sat back down, rubbing his head. “Those guys are just ass**les.”
“Yeah. They had no right to do that. I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t moved, it would’ve hit me.”
“Guess it’s good you moved then.” He gave me a smirk, his whole face still red.