Page 22 of To Love or to Lose
“So then, why don’t you do that and stop bothering me?” I snap. “Because, personally, I don’t think I’m the most fun person you could hang around.”
“If you think I’m doing this for fun, you are sadly mistaken,” he snaps the same way I did.
“Then, why are you talking to me? I’m trying to clarify that I don’t want your sad excuse of an apology, but clearly it’s not getting through to you.”
“I’m not apologizing because I think it’s what you want,” he sneers. “Unlike you, I have a moral conscience that makes me feel bad for what I did to you. Trust me, I wouldloveto not be thinking of all the ways I fucked you over, but Ican’t!”
“I'll make it easier for you, then.” I step away from him. “I’ll leave you alone to have your version of a fun senior year, and you can stay the fuck out of my way.”
I push past him, shocked when he doesn’t try to stop me. He doesn’t even follow me.
I take my seat once I make it to the classroom, not bothering to look around in search of Jameson.
I’m done worrying about him.
Sitting in the diner that Eloise’s family owns, I push the finished poster toward Winnie. “Do the numbers look crooked?” I ask.
She shrugs when she looks up from her own poster. “I don’t think so, but ask El when she gets back.”
I, and all the other class officers, are responsible for making posters to display at the football field for the first game of the season, and every year, I enlist Winnie and Eloise’s help.
Some of them have player’s numbers on them, other’s just have sayings like “GO OFFENSE,” or “GET LOUD!”
Together, we take up one of the largest corner booths in the Taylor’s diner.
Eloise’s family owns this diner, making it much easier to have an entire booth covered in craft supplies to ourselves without being asked to leave.
When Eloise returns, she sets down a glass of water for me, and lemonades for her and Winnie. She is used to being a half-waiter while sitting with us.
“The three is crooked,” she says as soon as she sits.
“What are you going to do about Jameson?” Winnie asks me.
I’m looking down at my poster, redrawing the three. “I’m going to kick his ass, or get him sent back to London,” I say sarcastically.
I’m not exactly sure what the two of them thought my response was going to be. They are well aware of my opinion on this less-than-ideal situation, and they know I will do everything I can to secure my position as Valedictorian.
Eloise laughs. “I’m not sure how well that’s going to work out.”
“Let’s just not talk about it,” I reply. “Winnie, how's ballet going?”
If there’s anything to give Winnifred Carter credit for, it’s her amazing ballet skills. She's probably one of the best ballet prodigies to come through Fairwood.
She sighs as she picks up a dark blue marker to color in the letters of her poster with. “Don’t even get me started.”
“What did Madame Bitch do now?” Eloise asks with a scoff.
Madame Bacri is Winnie’s ballet teacher, who we have resorted to calling Madame Bitch ever since she told Winnie she needs to look less like a toy soldier and more like a ballerina.
“It’s not her. She’s just mad because my Italian fouettés have been terrible recently.”
Eloise puts a comforting hand on Winnie’s shoulder. “You’ll get it, don’t worry,” she tells her. Winnie smiles in response before we start working on our individual posters again.
“Okay guys,” I announce, holding up my finished poster. “How does it look?”
Both nod, smiling as they compliment my work.
Winnie holds up her own poster, asking us, “Do you guys think I should add glitter?”
