Gretchen looked up in surprise. “Clearing up.”
“Stop.” I hurried over and looked down into the trash can. My chest tightened at the sight of the food inside it. “You just threw away half a meat loaf!”
“Miss, leave your plate and glass. I’ll clean it up,” Gretchen said tetchily as she reached for the potatoes.
“No!” I grabbed ahold of the other end of the dish and her eyes grew round with surprise. “You can’t just throw perfectly good food out!”
“Miss, please let go of the potatoes.”
“No!”
“Miss, please.” Her face grew pale.
“What is going on in here?” I heard Theo’s authoritative voice behind us.
My grip on the dish tightened.
“Sir, I’m just trying to clear up the waste and Miss Maxwell got very upset.”
“India.” A hand curled around my wrist and I followed it up to Hayley’s concerned face.
“It’s not waste,” I whispered. “It’s perfectly fine leftovers.”
I saw the pain in Hayley’s eyes at my words and she reached up to brush my cheek with her fingertips. “Sweetie,” she whispered back.
“We can’t just throw it out.”
“I know.” She nodded and looked over my shoulder. “Darling, India’s right. We should be keeping the leftovers or giving them to a local shelter. It’s a lot of food to throw away.”
I felt the warmth of Theo’s presence as he stepped up beside us and peered into the trash can. “Do you throw out this much food every day?”
Gretchen swallowed hard. “Not every day, sir. Sometimes.”
“Well, it does seem like a lot. India and Hayley are right. You and the staff will share the leftovers between you from now on, is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Gretchen slumped with relief, I imagine because Theo hadn’t given her any more crap about it.
As for me, my heartbeat began to slow but I still wasn’t completely reassured. “You will use the leftovers, right?”
I could tell she thought I was nuts but still she answered soothingly, “Yes, miss. I have a teenage son who eats me out of house and home. The leftovers will be welcome.”
The tension drained out of me. “Good.” I sucked in a huge breath of air. “Thanks.”
She gently tugged on the oven dish and I let it go, stepping back.
“I must say, India, I find your attitude quite refreshing.” Theo gave me an affectionate smile.
My return smile was tremulous.
He thought I was being socially and economically conscious. He had no idea about my issues with food.
Hayley knew, though.
She rubbed my arm and turned me away from Gretchen. “You’ve had a long day, sweetie. Why don’t you make it an early night?”
I nodded, and turned around to find Eloise standing near the door to the kitchen, watching me.
Crap.
The last thing I needed was her witnessing my weirdness.
HE WAS EATING DOUGHNUTS. They were fresh and I could smell them. Carla had brought them.
My stomach clenched painfully.
“I can’t keep eating ’em if she’s gonna look at me like a feral cat,” Carla complained. “Just fucking give her some food, Ed.”
“Little bitch isn’t getting a thing until I say so. She knows what she did.” He glared at me.
I didn’t know what I did.
I just knew it didn’t take much.
“Well, she’s freaking me out.” Carla shoved the box of doughnuts away.
“Fine.” He stood up abruptly and grabbed up the box of baked goods. Eyes on me the whole time, he strode across the trailer to the trash can, stood on the pedal that opened the lid and one by one he dropped the doughnuts inside.
I hated him.
I tightened my arms around my knees and shoved my face against my skin to block him out.
“I gotta go to work.”
“She ain’t going to school?”
“Nah. They’d feed her.”
“She could just eat while you’re gone.”
“I emptied every inch of the place.” He laughed, a wheezy sound I hated just as much as I hated him.
“You’re sick,” she said.
If she thought so, why didn’t she do something?
I felt a stinging burn against my head, the crack of his hand echoing in my ears. I winced and looked up at him.
He sneered down at me. “Don’t move a muscle or I’ll know.”
I nodded, so relieved when they were gone.
I waited a while before I dragged my tired body over to the trash can. I pulled the doughnuts out, wiping cigarette ash and some spicy sauce off a few of them before I shoveled them into my mouth. And I cried the whole time.
* * *
By the end of second period the next day, I knew bulimic had been added to my roster of fictional problems after a girl I didn’t know leaned across her desk as I finished an energy bar before Calculus 2 started.
“Bryce Jefferson told me all about you so I need advanced warning if you’re going to puke that up, because I don’t handle vomit very well.” She wrinkled her nose at me.
I blinked at her, confused for a few seconds, before it dawned on me that Eloise had told Bryce about my kitchen escapade the night before, and Bryce had clearly told everyone else. It was bad enough the whole thing had given me nightmares I didn’t want—I didn’t need this crap.
“I’m not bulimic. But it’s good to know you are so concerned about a possibly life-threatening disorder affecting a classmate. You should win an award or something for most compassionate student. No, wait. I mean the most self-centered dipshit award.”
Her mouth fell open in outrage and she shifted her entire desk away from mine with a screech across the hardwood floors.
That probably wasn’t the best way for me to go about making new friends.
As it turned out I shouldn’t have worried too much about alienating one of my classmates. By Day Four at Tobias Rochester, Eloise’s friends had done that for me. I had not made one friend and the only classmate that spoke to me at all was Gabe, and that was to flirt with me briefly in the cafeteria. It didn’t make me feel too special, however, because it became clear as he mingled with other students that Gabe flirted with a lot of girls.
I’d also exhausted all avenues regarding extracurricular activities. It turned out every team was full—the debate team, yearbook, events committee... I’d even asked about the math and science teams but apparently only geniuses were allowed and I was rejected because of my mere above-average brain. As for athletics, they had no soccer team so I was already at a disadvantage. I couldn’t play basketball or lacrosse, I couldn’t fence or dance (at least not at the level Tobias