The Girl Across the Street

The Girl Across the Street 20

Emma looks at me, then quickly at Kate. When Kate doesn't protest, Emma looks at the table. She sees Simon, who waves at us. She nods hesitantly, eyeing the other people at the table. Chris isn't back and a few of the other soccer guys are just hanging around. I don't think anyone would mind so I urge her on. Simon nods at me when I sit down. He eyes Kate but nods at her too, then nods at Emma who sits next to me, across from a cheerleader named Tara.

            Tara wrinkles her nose when she sees Emma. "Who told you that you could sit here?"

            "I did Tara so shut the fuck up." I reply. She sneers at Emma and crosses her arms over her shoulders defiantly.

            "Well, she should leave. You didn't ask the rest of us if she could sit here."

            "Since when did we need permission to invite people to our table?" Simon interjects.

            "Since you decided to invite her." She answers icily.

            Emma cowers at Tara's glare. She picks up her books. "That's okay, I'll just go sit where I've been sitting, it's not big deal." She stands up and makes her way back to her old table. I glance back at her but she smiles at me and motions for me to stay with my friends.

            "You're a bitch Tara." My jaw drops when Kate says that. I wasn't the only one. Most of the table is looking at Kate, jaws dragging on the floor.

            "Excuse me?" Tara whispers threateningly.

            Kate repeats herself slowly, as if talking to a child. "You are a bitch. All she did was sit down. You didn't have to talk to her, but you didn't have to be a bitch and kick her out. Dylan invited her over here because he's actually friends with her. And you know what, if she's good enough for him, then she should be good enough for the rest of us." She finishes her speech and closes her eyes for a moment then reopens them as if nothing happened.

            "Screw you Kate. You're going to regret calling me a bitch." Tara sneers, picking up her half finished salad and going to sit with the football players. I watch as she whispers something to them, glancing at us, then whispering again.

            Kate winces and I put my arm around her, kissing her temple. "That was great of you."

            She shrugged. "I'm tired of Tara acting like she owns this whole damn place."

            We don't say anything else about it, and everyone continues as though the last few minutes never happened. As if Emma had never sat down with us, as though Kate didn't call Tara out, as if Tara didn't storm away from the table. Nothing like that happens in Oakland, at least it never gets seen, it always gets ignored. You only see the perfect parts. How we all get really great grades because our school system is one of the best in the country.  How the teenagers never get drunk, never hold ragers, never need to have the occasional stomach pumped. No one commits suicide, no one gets busted for doing drugs. Those things never get recognized, always hidden from the public eye. In the public's view everyone always looks the same, acts the same, thinks the same. Always.

            I shake my head and Simon gives me a weird look. I shrug him off but can't get the thought out of my head. Everything has always been the same and no one has ever bothered to change it.

            I walk to drama with Kate and to be honest, I don't even know what she was trying to talk about. I felt out of it, absorbed in my own mind. Mr. Holmes tries to greet me but I hardly notice. Kate snaps me out of it.