Trinity (17)

I don’t try to start the computer back up, and opt instead to eat with the computer’s error-screen blue light washing over my lunch. But I’m soon interrupted. Again.

I turn, hoping it’s just Mrs. Leonard entering the library. It’s not though, and I knew it wouldn’t be, because a cloud of smoke-scented air didn’t precede her.

Instead, Maggie has just wandered in from the hallway, and her eyes light up when she sees me. She comes closer, then stands in the threshold of the computer lab for a moment before speaking.

“I wasn’t really expecting to find you here.” She sits down next to me, setting a pencil case down on the keyboard in front of her. It’s blue with green flowers.

I stare at her, then at the pencil case.

“I couldn’t find you at lunch, and Mr. Dennis wouldn’t let me leave the cafeteria,” Maggie explains. Mr. Dennis loves to patrol the halls during the lunch periods. In fact, I don’t think I’ve never seen him let anyone through before the bell rings. “I had to tell him I needed a tampon.”

I nod at the pencil case. “So… you got one?”

“This way it’s not lying,” Maggie says matter-of-factly. Then she crosses one leg over the other and arranges her skirt, but I can tell she’s just trying not to seem too eager. Then, she says it. What she's been dying to say this whole time. “So. Who did it?”

I try to stall, but she raises an eyebrow and I stammer, “I don’t think I should say. I shouldn’t.”

“Is it someone we know, at least? Someone in our grade?” she presses.

“I… Well, no.”

“Huh. I’ve gotta tell Mary Kate. We thought it was Henry Foley. You know he got called to the office too? You two were kind of hanging out, right? Why were you called in?”

I stare at the carpet, which is speckled brown and blue and probably pretty dirty, honestly. “I don’t know. I didn’t know anything about it.”

Maggie lets out a thoughtful hum, then stands as she looks at her watch. “Well, lunch is about to end. You should sit with us, by the way. Me and Mary Kate and everyone. For lunch, you know.” She tugs the ends of her uniform sweater's sleeves over her hands and smiles at me.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” I can feel my mouth tugging up into a smile. I’d never really thought about sitting with them.

. . .

My first thought after lunch is that I have to find Pearl. Instead, I run into Henry in the hallway. Henry and four of his football friends. I tuck my head down and start to walk around them.

“But did you do it? We barely saw you that night,” one of his friends was saying.

“He couldn’t have, he was too busy disappearing with girls,” laughs another, jostling Henry with his shoulder.

“Yeah, you keep hanging around Pearl like that, we’re gonna get suspicious.”

“Pearl? Did you see his date, dude? She was hot.”

Henry just laughs hollowly, his eyes drifting across the hallway. I look away just as his gaze meets mine. Not my business.

His friends keep going. “What about Pearl’s guy, though? Nose Ring. Who was he?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” I hear Henry say.

“Dude, I saw you two hanging out, you clearly know him.”

One of his friends lets out an accusatory chuckle. I pass the group of them, but slow down a bit to hear the rest of the conversation.

“Yeah, it almost looked like you two--”

“Alright, I know him!” laughs Henry, but I can sense an underlying note of irritation--or panic? “He hooked us up with some drinks. You know, before the dance. So yeah, I was a little off that night. But I didn't sharpie anything.”

His friend lowers his voice, but I'm hunched at a nearby locker--not mine--straining my hearing, so I don't miss anything. “Bro, you were with Pearl and Trin. I can’t imagine those two touching alcohol.”

“Yeah. Crazy. It’s true though. Hey, catch up with you later, I gotta pee.” Henry is talking much too fast, but his friends just walk away, chuckling and murmuring. I watch him as he rushes by me without seeing, a deep line between his brows.

My stomach feels all twisted up, and I’ve run out of time to find Pearl.

. . .

At the end of the day, it’s Pearl that finds me. She stops by the side of my locker, still pulling at the zipper on her backpack, trying to close it around a pile of books.

“What are you doing after school?” she asks me. She’s already thrown a pale pink cardigan over her uniform, somehow making her look more preppy. If that’s possible.

“After school? It’s Wednesday.” Which means I’m free, because it’s not Friday.

“Do you want to come over? Or, if my house is too far away, we can go to the park.” She threads her fingers together in front of her, and she looks the most like she’s praying as I’ve ever seen her.

“Uh. Yeah, your house is fine. If that’s cool with your parents. Um, why?” I shut my locker and eye her for a moment.

She smiles, not a hair out of place. “So we can chat. Friday’s too far away, don’t you think?”

I do think. I do think this is strange is what I do think. “Ok, I’ll just text my parents real quick.”

She grabs my forearm and pulls me down the hall. “Make it real quick, because the bus will leave soon.”

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(first part: https://theprose.com/post/432343/trinity)

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(previous part: https://theprose.com/post/442423/trinity-16)

(next part: https://theprose.com/post/443218/trinity-18)