Dark Blue: Color Me Lonely with Bonus Content Read Free Page A

soup and juice coated her light khaki pants.
    “Smooth move, Hendricks!” taunted Amber.
    “I’m sorry, Jordan,” I mumbled as I handed her a slightly used napkin.
    “What a klutz,” said Betsy Mosler.
    Shawna Frye made a face. “Disgusting! That’s gonna stink, Jordan.”
    Jordan was still unsuccessfully trying to blot her soup-soaked pants clean while I just stood there feeling like the village idiot. I expected the girls at the table to get up and start throwing stones and rotten vegetables at me any minute now.
    “Hey, I’ve got a spare pair of jeans in my locker,” said Shawna. “I’msure they’ll be a little big for you. What are you, Jordan, a size one?”
    Jordan flashed that smile at her. “Oh, thanks, Shawna, that’d be great. I’m sure they’ll fit fine.”
    So before I could say anything or do any more damage, Shawna led my
ex
-best friend away.
    “Way to go, Kara,” said Betsy loud enough for half the cafeteria to hear, even over the loud music. “With friends like you, who needs enemies?”
    I wanted to ask Betsy why she couldn’t think of anything more clever to say, but of course, I kept my mouth shut as I walked away from that stupid, snooty table. With my eyes downcast like I was looking for spare change on the floor, I deposited my messy tray. I made my way to the nearest exit, feeling as if I were wading through a sea of Jell-O, and vowed to never return to the cafeteria again. From now on I would brown-bag it with the rest of the losers who were too intimidated to face the tyrannies of the lunch line and cafeteria. Life as I’d known it was officially over.

four
     
     
    I T FEELS INCREDIBLY LAME TO CARE THIS MUCH ABOUT SOMEONE . A ND I’M embarrassed to admit that I have actually cried over losing Jordan. Sheesh, it’s not like I’m a lesbian or anything. It’s just that she’s been my best friend for, like, forever. And I honestly don’t know how to function without her. I am such a loser.
    “What’s up with you?” she asks me a couple of days later as we stand in front of our locker.
    “Me?” I stare at her like she’s a complete stranger.
    “You’re acting so weird lately.” She reaches up to get her biology book.
    “I’m
acting weird?”
    Then she pauses to really look at me. “You just seem different, Kara. Are you okay?”
    Why does she keep asking if
I’m
okay? And what do you say when your
ex
-best friend, who has turned into someone else, asks you if
you’re
okay? Naturally, not feeling terribly clever, I say nothing.
    So she just shakes her head and slams the locker shut. Obviously she hasn’t noticed that I haven’t retrieved my own notebook yet. But then why would she?
    “Hey, Jordan,” calls Shawna. “Did you hear we’re going to practice outside today?”
    Then Jordan and Shawna walk off together, discussing something as insipid as shoe colors. Jordan never even looks back.
    At the end of the day, I notice that all of Jordan’s things are missing from our locker. At first I am shocked and assume that someone has broken into it. This happens at our school occasionally. And sometimes the vice principal does locker searches when he suspects someone’s smuggled drugs onto campus. One time we even had a police dog sniff around, but he didn’t find anything. These thoughts are going through my head, but then I notice a lime-green Post-it note stuck on the inside of the door.
    “Sharing lockers with Shawna now. Closer to the gym and better for practice. Jordan.”
    That is it.
Okay,
I tell myself,
it’s really over now.
I wad up the note, stuff it into a pocket of my backpack, and head toward the exit. It feels like I’m walking in a dream now, like nothing is real. Or perhaps I’m not real. Maybe everyone else is real, everyone except me.
    I blankly observe the kids milling around, laughing, joking, teasing. Girls in groups, guys in groups, some couples hanging onto each other like they can’t bear to let go, a few even making out. But I