Page 7 of Reaching Avery
Looking up, I narrowed my eyes at him.
He looked like one of those Abercrombie guys: perfect blond hair and nice—more than likely expensive—preppy clothes. The other guys in his group looked like his minions, all wearing the same type of clothes and arrogant expressions.
A retort was on the tip of my tongue, but I clenched my jaw instead and kept moving toward the building.
The cafeteria should’ve still been serving breakfast, and my stomach screamed for some food. Once I was inside, I went through the line and was disappointed when I saw they were only serving those super small, personal serving sized boxes of cereal. I’d been hoping for something more substantial, but it was better than nothing.
I grabbed a Froot Loops box, a bowl, and a thing of milk before finding a seat at an empty table.
I was so hungry that I felt nauseous, and I was afraid I’d puke if I ate anything. Which I knew wasn’t a good sign, but sadly, I was used to the feeling.
After I scarfed down the cereal and drank all the milk—without puking, yay—I went back outside. There was a shaded corner right beside the front doors that would be a great hiding spot until the bell rang. Once I reached it, I slid down the wall and sat in the grass.
It was chilly in the shade, but I didn’t care. It beat being the spectacle for all the kids to point at and mock.
As I waited, I pulled out my class schedule and looked it over. History was first, and then AP Biology. I’d wanted to take the advanced placement course because it’d look better on a college application—if I even got accepted into one. I had Study of Fine Arts third period—whatever the hell that was, but it sounded cool.
I liked learning. Most people looked at me and thought I was a trouble-maker by how I dressed, but school mattered to me, and I’d always kept a high B to low A average. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to be after I graduated, maybe go into engineering or be an architect. Both things I’d need a degree for.
However, I feared college was out of the question for me, no matter how good my grades were. I couldn’t afford it.
The ringing of the bell pulled me from my depressing thoughts and I stood up, slung my backpack over one shoulder, and walked through the doors. I hoped I’d go through the day unnoticed.
I was good at being invisible.
