Chapter Seven: Kayla

I found Milo Kowalski sitting alone at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. He raised his eyebrows when I sat down.

"You know you're committing social suicide by sitting here," he remarked with a small smile.

I shrugged. "I think I already did that when I went psycho in the hallway the other day."

Milo's eyes lit up. "That was seriously the coolest thing that has ever happened in this school."

I smiled, glad that at least one person didn't think I was out of my mind. I glanced around the cafeteria, noticing several people staring or pointing at us and laughing. I didn't care. I had been feeling a lot better ever since I told my mom about Wyatt, but I had also reached a point where I was done with it all. Done with the drama and the politics and the cruelty… done with high school, really. I was tempted to drop out and just go test for my GED. I could probably even do a year or two of community college before I applied for a larger university.

"So that's crazy about Frog, right?" Milo asked, taking a bite of his nondescript sandwich.

I nodded, glad that he had been the first to bring it up. "Yeah, it's like he just disappeared."

Milo furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait, you've heard from him, haven't you?"

I straightened in my chair. "No. Have you?"

Milo looked surprised. "Really? I would have thought you would be the first person he would get in contact with."

I was starting to get agitated. "Well, he hasn't. Have you heard from him?"

"Yeah, he texted me a couple days ago."

Milo took another bite of his sandwich and I almost wanted to throttle him.

"What did he say?" I asked with a hint of desperation.

"Oh, he said he had to move to Gulbrania."

"Gulbrania?"

"Yeah. His mom's work transferred her there."

I blew out a breath. Gulbrania. That's right. Frog said he had been born there. "Did he say anything else?"

"He said he'd lost his phone and had just gotten it back."

"Okay." This information made me relieved and frustrated at the same time. He wasn't dead, he had just moved to a country far away. He'd been without his phone all this time, but now he had it back, so why hadn't he responded to me? Maybe he'd been freaked out by all the messages I had left.

"I still can't believe he hasn't texted you or anything," Milo said, shaking his head.

Before I could respond, I heard someone come up behind me. I turned around and saw a guy from the football team holding a tray piled high with green Jell-O.

"Are you losers ready for dessert?" He asked, smiling mischievously.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Milo bracing for the inevitable, but I wasn't about to lie down and take this. Years of playing volleyball had helped me develop great reflexes and a sense of defense. I snatched the tray and brought it down to the table, then grabbed the front of the guy's shirt and pulled down, forcing his face into the tray of Jell-O.

"We're all full, but you let us know how it tastes," I said, standing up and getting ready to go.

Milo made a sound halfway in between a laugh and a gasp. "You are seriously so awesome!"

*****

The sky was dark when I pulled up to the diner. It seemed like the temperature had dropped about 20 degrees that evening and I rushed into the back entrance to get out of the cold. I stood in the kitchen for a moment to warm up and to let the coziness of the place wash over me. As outdated as I thought the diner was, there was something inviting about it, with its familiar aromas and homey atmosphere. I quickly changed into my sweat pants and old t-shirt and prepared to wash the dishes.

After the Jell-O incident, the rest of the day had been pretty uneventful. For a little while I thought I might get disciplined from it, but I figured that football player wasn't going to make a complaint about a girl shoving his face in the substance he was planning to pour on me and Milo. I actually kept finding myself thinking about Gulbrania all afternoon, and I had been tempted to ask Mr. Jacobs about it during world cultures class.

I was about to reach for the water sprayer when I heard someone come in through the back door. I must have been so eager to get inside that I forgot to lock it. I turned around and felt my insides begin to churn. Wyatt Brooks was walking toward me.

"I should have known you would work at some trash heap like this," he said with an ugly sneer. "That's about all you're worth."

"What do you want, Wyatt?" I said with surprising force. Over the past few days, I'd felt some of my fear dissipate concerning him.

"I want to know why my parents got a call from some whiny girl's mom about how I hurt her feelings." He stood too close to me and I took a necessary step back, trying not to remember what had happened the last time he had backed me up against a wall. "Are you really going to make a big deal out of a kiss?"

"It was more than that, and you know it," I spat.

"Well, it should have been more," Wyatt responded, giving me a hungry look with the eyes that I used to think were so dreamy.

"Leave me alone, Wyatt," I said evenly. "You don't want to cause any more trouble for yourself."

He threw his head back and laughed. "Trouble? I doubt it. My parents have very good connections, and nothing's going to happen to me." He took a step closer and lowered his voice. "But you? You'll just be the weak girl who can't handle a little heat." He smirked and I felt every muscle in my body tense up. "No one is going to believe you," he whispered. "Not then, and not now. Let's see how far we can get without your ugly friend to save you."

I should have been scared, but at the mention of Frog, I felt a surge of confidence. Even if Frog wasn't talking to me now, he had been there for me before. He had cared enough to fight for me, and I was worth something. I was worth a lot.

Now it was my turn to laugh. What Wyatt was trying to do was ridiculous. He was on my turf and I could handle myself.

"Wyatt," I said, straightening, "you really chose the wrong place to try and attack me."

I reached out and grabbed the water sprayer, then turned it on full force and hosed down every inch of Wyatt until he was drenched.

"Frank!" I yelled out, and within seconds the burly fry cook appeared around the corner. "Will you please escort this young man outside? He needs to cool off."

Frank glared at Wyatt. "My pleasure, Miss Morrison." He grabbed Wyatt by the arm and dragged him toward the door. Wyatt struggled against his grip, but he was no match for the older, larger man.

"This isn't over, Kayla!" He shouted right before Frank shoved him outside and bolted the door behind him.

I knew there would be repercussions, that Wyatt would try and get back at me, but at that moment, I just let myself enjoy a sense of satisfaction I hadn't felt in weeks.