Page 48 of Driftwood Daffodil

NOVALEE

Apparently being hated by Gio Mancini made one popular, and not in a good way. I’d been tripped, had my books slapped out of my hand, and been called names. But my favorite was when demon Barbie‘accidentally’spilled her coffee on me. That was definitely the icing on a shit storm cake.

Not only did I have a skinned knee and the messiest messy bun on the planet, but there was a big stain on my white shirt – which Maw Maw was going to love. She took personal offence to a stain, like it was there to test her capabilities.

That was one battle she never lost. I had yet to see a stain beat her determination. And to top it all off, I still hadn’t figuredout the identity of the mispeller, which bothered me more than the assholes walking around this place.

I’d even enlisted Memphis in my search. Of course he thought we were looking for some revenge. And while that was important, it was more important that this guy learned how to spell that word properly.

What if he wanted to send his bitch boss an email later in life? Or what if his wife cheated on him? It wouldn’t be a very good fuck off note if half the words were spelt wrong. And yes I was sure it was a guy. A girl would’ve used something like slut or bitch. Women were evil. Especially to each other.

By the time lunch came I’d come to three conclusions. Hore man was a master at hiding. One should never wear something colorful under a white shirt—a good portion of my English class got to see the smiley faces on my bra. And, this might actually be Gio Mancini’s school.

The student body was like a parasite that fed off of his emotions. Pretty sure I was the most hated girl in school. Even Chuck was hesitant to sit with me at lunch.

Memphis was not happy about his boyfriend’s reaction, but I got it. Chuck was only trying to protect him. My best friend had a lot of bark with absolutely no ability to bite.

Don‘t get me wrong, Memphis could act tough and bare his teeth with the best of them. But when push came to shove, he’d just end up getting hurt, which neither Chuck nor I wanted. That didn’t stop Memphis from arguing about it.

He and Chuck were in the midst of a fight when I left them in the cafeteria. After all the crap I’d pulled, it took someone else’s hatred of me to break the couple’s sweetness streak. That was kind of a disappointment, but I was still going to consider it a win. They were arguing about me after all, and that’s all I wanted. They were too perfect.

I looked up at the crucifix hanging on the door.

So why did I feel bad about it?

That was almost as confusing as why I was standing outside the chapel. I had no idea how I wound up here. All I was doing was looking for a quiet place to eat and somehow found myself here.

There were worse places to seek refuge I suppose. Like the guys locker room. I made that mistake last year. The smell of sweat and dirty socks followed me around for a week and I was only in there for five minutes.

Still, there was something more appealing about that than eating in a chapel. What was this? Lunch hour with the Lord? Thy kingdom come, your torment will be undone? Hide in thy loving arms and rejoice in the fruit of the cafeteria.

Maybe I could get my ham sandwich blessed, though that might burn going down. Honestly, I was surprised every Sunday when we walked into church and I didn’t combust. Come to think of it, eating in the chapel probably wasn’t the best idea.

My eyes rolled down the hallway, I could hear voices. Someone was coming. The cross on the door didn’t look so intimidating now.

Screw it. I was already here.

Shrugging I pushed open the door and walked in.Time to get my sandwich on with God.

The first thing I noticed was how well this room was taken care of. The small church Maw Maw dragged us too had cracks in the walls, shingles falling off the roof, and two broken pews. That wasn’t the case here.

There were no cracks in each dark wooden bench and they were freshly waxed, I could smell it in the air. Just like I could smell the cleaner obviously used on the floors and stained glass windows. They were so polished that I could see the various angel images depicted in each pane of glass.

What kind of bullshit was that? Our church had one with the archangel Michael and his sword. The sword was all flaming while his avenging wings were spread out. I loved that thing, then someone threw a baseball through it. That one was on Father John though, I clearly warned him against having me play any kind of sport.

I wasn’t the team player type. I wasn’t even the player type. Then again, I didn’t consider myself religious either. Yet here I was, hiding from people in a chapel. Talk about tides changing.

“Hello.”

“Shit,” I screeched and jumped back, causing my food to fly everywhere.

Apparently my situational awareness sucked. Otherwise I would’ve noticed the small blonde girl sitting in the pew I was standing next to. Literally. She was right there, so close I’d barely have to lift my hand to touch her.

While I didn’t notice her, my food sure did. Half of me wanted to laugh at the pile of lettuce sitting on the top of her head like a tiny wig, and the other half of me couldn’t help but think of the coffee stain on my shirt and the grief I got over it.

People called me coffee girl, trailer trash, smiley boobs and Jennifer – though I think that one was a case of mistaken identity. I didn’t want this girl to receive the same treatment.

Damnit, stupid guilt.

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