Choke Read Free

left the class wondering what she’d like to be, which magnet school she’d apply to. Maybe I could apply there, too.

I n the cafeteria, seats are determined by status. The in-crowd sits by the windows overlooking the courtyard. The out-crowd sits by the trash cans and the big plastic vat where we dump our milk before pitching the cartons into the recycling bin. The milk sours fast, so the whole corner stinks, and since it’s close to the exit, it buzzes with flies.
    The GP sits everywhere else.
    Our cafeteria has a serving area with two lines, hot and cold. The cold line offers soggy sandwiches wrapped in cellophane, a variety of chips, apples or oranges, and milk or water. The hot line offers a different menu each day, usually a meat, a vegetable, a fruit, and milk or water. If we wantsoda or Gatorade, we have to go to the vending machines and spend an extra dollar.
    Elena and I prefer the hot line, especially when it features lasagna, which was on the menu on Nina’s first day.
    â€œCheck out Ronnie,” Elena said, nodding toward the vending machines. “He’s getting a Dr Pepper, Doritos, and a Snickers bar.”
    â€œI thought he wanted to be a trainer,” I said. “You can’t be a trainer if you’re a junk food junkie.”
    â€œHe’s guilty of junk-luttony, that’s for sure.”
    â€œNot another new word,” I pretended to complain.
    â€œYeah. Junk plus gluttony. Get it?”
    â€œLet’s just call him a junkie jock,” I suggested.
    â€œJunkie jock versus junk-luttony …”
    While Elena thought about it, Nina stepped in line behind us. The guys nearby were checking her out, but she didn’t seem to notice. She must be used to the school yard paparazzi.
    â€œHi,” she said to me, extending her hand. “I’m Nina.”
    â€œYeah, I know,” I said, offering my hand in return. “I’m Windy. I’m in your speech class.”
    â€œOffice jobs, right?”
    â€œYeah.”
    She looked at Elena. “And you’re Elena, the ice-skater.”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    I couldn’t believe she remembered us. Like I said, being GP usually makes us invisible.
    As I wondered how to keep the conversation going, Alicia and Courtney cut in front of us. I could smell their tangerine lip gloss, vanilla-scented body lotion, and coconut-infused conditioner. They both had Coach purses, identical except for the big, brass initials of their names.
    â€œExcusez-moi,” they said, nudging us aside to get their trays.
    â€œThat’s not fair,” Elena said.
    â€œThat’s not fair,” Alicia repeated in a baby voice.
    â€œBut we were here first.”
    This time Alicia and Courtney didn’t bother to say “whatever.” They simply flashed the W sign.
    â€œWhat’s up with them?” Nina whispered.
    Elena and I shrugged. We honestly didn’t know why Courtney and Alicia picked on us, but we had our theories. Elena said they were jealous. Maybe they were. After all, Elena gets lots of school awards. But I never get any, so why give me a hard time? Besides, Courtney and Alicia get their own recognitions — in the yearbook, they were Best Dressed, Most Popular, and Most Likely to Land a Spot on a Reality TV Show. Those are the awards that matter, that will beremembered at reunions ten years from now. No, they weren’t jealous. If they were, they’d pick on the other successful GP, too. I think they can read our minds and know we want to be part of the in-crowd. They probably think we don’t remember our proper place, so they act mean to remind us.
    â€œHey, Miss,” Courtney said to the cafeteria lady, “make sure you give my little friend here some applesauce since it’s the closest thing you have to baby food.”
    â€œMaybe you could warm up some milk for her, too,” Alicia added.
    Elena’s face got red, but she didn’t have