A Catholic school, a best friend with two boyfriends, and a new girl who wore inappropriate clothing. Maverick Bridge only wanted to concentrate on her studies, but was forced to resolve conflicts that she did not start. In the process of resolving...
"I don't know anything." I answered Natasha while we waited in the cafeteria line. The special for today happens to be my favourite food. Poutine. Because who wouldn't want fries, cheese curds, and gravy? Our school rarely makes it due to concerns from parents, saying that deep-fried french fries with gravy, and cheese curds can cause cardiovascular diseases due to high cholesterol and fat.
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"Don't give me crap." Nat said, sighing and crossing her arms. "Obviously, something's going on around here."
"Just, don't worry about it." I told her, pulling her by the arm so we could move pass a grade nine who's not moving in the line.
"The thing is, when you say don't worry about it, it actually means that I should totally worry about it." She replied, now looking worried. "I'm the only one who doesn't know anything. No, no, don't give me that look- I know that Dani knows what's going on as well- Stop giving me that look Maverick!"
I frowned and looked away. How could I possibly tell her?
"Okay. What about we find Dennis after lunch, and we let him explain it?" I suggested, as I inhale the delicious scent of fried potatoes. I grabbed a veggie bag, juice box, and placed it on my tray.
"Dennis is involved?" Nat asked in bewilderment, following me behind and reached for a box of chocolate milk.
I froze, narrowed my eyes, and literally face palmed. I fucked up.
"Why the heck is Dennis involved with Thomas breaking up with me?"
I bit my lip as I panicked inside. Staring at Nat, I shook my head slowly and greeted the lunch lady that I knew since freshmen year.
"'Sup Mrs. Stalwick." I said, ignoring Nat's horrifying stare.
"Maverick, don't ignore me." Nat pestered.
"Can I have extra cheese curds on my poutine?" I asked the woman in front of me. Mrs. Stalwick smiled, and nodded her head. "Sweet. Thanks Mrs. Stalwick. You're the bomb."
"Bomb? I don't want to be a bomb." She said in confusion.
"Mave." Nat called again beside me as I placed the plate of poutine on my tray. "What the hell is going on?"
"Apparently, Mrs. Stalwick doesn't want to be a bomb." Nat gave me a stern look. "I'm just kidding. Uh, and I can't talk about it." I finally told her as we moved in the line.
