Free Something True by Kieran Scott Page A

me this look like Nice .
    I grinned back. I know, right?
    I grabbed some cafeteria grub from the food line and headed outside for True’s table.
    “Comfortable?” I asked.
    She opened one eye, then sat up, her hair bringing the leaves with her. “I was, yes, thanks for asking.” She reached for my tray and snagged a couple of fries, shoving them into her mouth.
    “Sure. You can have some. Feel free,” I joked.
    True rolled her eyes. “What is it with people and food? This place has tons of it on offer. It’s not like we’re in the middle of the Greco-Persian Wars or something. Back then you’d trade your mother for a crust of bread, but now—”
    I sat down across from her. “The Greco-Persian Wars?”
    True blushed and plucked a leaf from her hair, tossing it up into the breeze. “I’m kind of a history buff.”
    “Right.” I shoved my straw into my soda and smiled at her as I took a sip. True stole another few fries. This was a person who didn’t give a crap what people thought of her.
    “That’s an interesting lunch,” she said, eyeing my tray. “Are you going into hibernation soon?”
    I looked down at my plate, which was piled high with two burgers, an extra-large order of fries, a helping of macaroni and cheese, and a chocolate chip cookie. She had a muffin, a yogurt, and a banana on her side.
    “You’re the one who keeps bogarting my fries,” I joked. “And I bet I finish this before you get through that yogurt, and when I do, I’m taking your muffin.”
    “My muffin is your muffin,” she said, which, for some reason, made me blush. Then she reached into her backpack and pulled out a bunch of laminated paper. “Now let’s talk place mats. These are the ones from the last five years.”
    “They save the place mats?” I asked, shoving a forkful of macaroni into my mouth as I looked them over. The worst was a totally amateur drawing of a football with a hand-lettered school logo. The best was a wide-angle picture of the whole football team in uniforms, cheering, with football helmets shoved in the air.
    “I like that one,” I said.
    “You would.” True laughed.
    I arched my eyebrows. “What?”
    “Anything to get your face out there,” she teased me.
    I blinked. Was I that bad?
    True tapped her chin with her index finger. “I like the idea of a photograph instead of a painting or a drawing, though.”
    “Okay. But if not the football team, then what?” I asked, lifting my chin at Josh and Veronica as they walked by on their way to our usual table. Josh nodded back, but Veronica gave me this look like I was a pile of puke. Like I gave a crap. I didn’t like the way she treated Darla, and I couldn’t care less what she thought of me. “The cheerleaders?” I suggested, grinning.
    True took a spoonful of yogurt. “A sexy place mat?”
    “Who said anything about sexy?” I asked, raising my palms. “You just assumed, which is very sexist of you, by the way.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    From the corner of my eye, I saw Darla stride by us, pointedly looking away. I wished she didn’t feel hurt by the fact that I was having lunch with someone else. I wished things were less complex for her. But I’d make it up to her later with two hours of mind-numbingly shallow TV. Who else offered to sit through Say Yes to the Dress ? I was the best boyfriend ever.
    “Okay, we could take a picture of the front of the school,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Or of the logo on the basketball court . . .”
    “The football field!” True exclaimed, dripping some yogurt onto her chin. “It’s really pretty out there in the afternoons when the sun starts to go down. I bet that would look amazing.”
    “Sounds good to me,” I said, handing her a napkin. “Maybe I could get my friend Greg to take the picture. He’s one of the yearbook photographers.”
    “That would be perfect.” She quickly and unself-consciously wiped her face and fingers, then crossed her arms on the table. “So, can I ask you