Chapter 5

Lunch was the third circle of hell. At least in Civics and gym there was a teacher whose job it was to maintain order and perhaps even teach something. In the lunch room the only concern was to stop any food fights. As a senior, I had the privilege of eating in a smaller annex with windows that overlooked the parking lot. I no longer had prepubescent first years trying their pickup lines thinking that I was a new girl and maybe desperate.

Eating in the senior's annex meant that both sides of the debate could encircle me and try to win points. The debating methods were less subtle here. An accidentally spilled milk if I refused to acknowledge their conversation would ruin my lunch. A tray dropped on my lap leaving chocolate pudding covering my clothes. I had a spare set in my locker, but that meant walking through the halls with brown smears on my pants. I had no desire to add incontinence to the list of my rumored faults.

The horrors of war breeds its own necessities. I started sitting with Marilyn. Ne had nir own table that no one would go near. Even when Marilyn wasn't there it would sit empty while students crowded around other tables to find a seat. There were six chairs at the table, as there were supposed to be at each of the other tables. Whenever a student would try to borrow a chair Marilyn would look at them with one of nir finely shaped brows raised.

"What's the magic word?" ne'd say. Invariably the other student would turn red and leave the chair where it was.

I sat in the chair furthest from Marilyn.

"Is it OK if I sit here?" I asked. I was trying to sound casual, as if being the first student to directly address Marilyn since school started was no big deal.

Marilyn looked at me and gave me an absolutely brilliant smile.

"Sure thing, darling."

I turned beet red and plunked myself in that chair.

"My name's Petunia," I said once my face stopped burning; about half an hour into lunch.

"I know," Marilyn said. "I'm Marilyn." Ne reached out a finely muscled hand. I'd come this far so I shook hands.

That was the sum of our conversation for the next three weeks.

Midterms were approaching and books began to appear on the lunch tables in front of even the most laid back students. These were the marks that were going to go to the universities to show what bright little creature we are.

Marilyn had the math books out and was muttering and cursing nir way through an algebra problem. It drove me nuts. I love math and I hate to see it mutilated. When I couldn't stand it anymore I scooted over to the chair beside Marilyn and brought out the paper and pencil.

"Listen," I said through my last bite of salad, "the first thing you need to do is decide what the question is asking. Then you need to develop your strategy."

"You sound like it's some kind of game."

"It is, in a way." My pencil flew across my paper setting up the equations. "We need to look at which variable is easiest to isolate. Once that's done, the rest is easy. Now, I could just look at the equations and tell you that x equals the square root of two. But you won't get any marks for that."

"You know the answer just by looking at it?" Marilyn peered at me with those perfect eyebrows raised. Nir eyes were a deep blue with little flecks of green in them.

"Uh, yeah," I said, "but like I told you, you don't get marks for the right answer. You get marks for showing why it is the right answer." I went back to the pencil and paper. I scribbled out line after line breaking the equation down. The bell for the next period caught both of us by surprise. I put my pencil and pad back in my binder.

"Thanks, Tuni," Marilyn said, and gave me a quick hug. I was sure that every eye in that lunch room was fixed on me. Marilyn felt the silence and the stares. I knew it because ne dropped nir arms and went all stiff and cold. I put my binder on the table and wrapped my arms around nem and gave nem a hug back.

I could feel the target being drawn on my back. I didn't care.

It wasn't like my life could get any worse.