Free The Inside of Out by Jenn Marie Thorne

day from now on.
    Which left me with a dizzying array of new dining options. I glanced around, feeling extremely small.
    Peppering the room were tables informally reserved bypeople I’d barely spoken to, except maybe to ask what the teacher had just said the homework was. A bunch of the Parapsychology Club kids hung out at the table just behind me. We knew each other, yeah, but after the “You’re all so
freaking smug
. It must be nice to know
everything about the universe
!” incident that ended my affiliation with the group last year, I doubted they’d clear me a space when they returned from gawking out the window.
    To my left was the table where Dan Sawtuck and Mara Thomas usually sat. I’d done an English class project with them last year and we were still sort of friendly, I guessed, but they’d started dating since then and pretty much spent the whole lunch hour making out, so my presence at their table would probably be awkward for all involved.
    I spotted some other options that would place me alongside people whose birthday parties I’d gone to, whose jokes I’d laughed at in class, who’d held the door for me on their way out of the restroom. But it felt too weird to walk up and invade their space without Hannah to provide the social niceties. Me by myself was tantamount to, “Hi, I’m Daisy, will you please be my friend?” and I was
so
not up for that today. Or, you know, ever.
    Jack had already slipped out of the cafeteria and there was nobody else at the table, so I fell into his seat and picked at my lunch, sliding Hannah’s extra plate under my own. It felt disorienting sitting here, like switching from map mode to first-person POV in a video game. I thought I knew the exact social layout of this room, but now that I was fully ensconced, I could make out so much more.
    Along the far wall, I saw Raina eating at a table where everyone’s heads were ducked, doing homework. A few tables down, Sean was laughing along with his bevy of devoted drama girls. And close to the door, I spotted Sophie carrying on a quiet conversation with a group of classmates in competing earth-toned outfits.
    From what I could tell, the Alliance members barely acknowledged one another outside their weekly meetings. But now I saw one thing binding them together—out of everyone in the cafeteria, Raina, Sean, and Sophie were the only three whose faces didn’t turn to the windows every few seconds. There was something focused about the way each of them sat in place, refusing to look. A form of respect.
    As I polished off my lunch, four gawky guys broke from the window, nudging one another with leering expressions, like they’d just watched a peep show instead of two girls eating sandwiches. At the sight of them, Sophie’s serene smile disappeared. I watched them motion toward her, and then, as if drawn in by her discomfort, veer to her table.
    For a second, I hoped they were just going over there to set up a pot deal for later, but then one of them said something I couldn’t make out and they all started laughing. Sophie’s face went pale. A shaggy-haired boy at her table half stood, jaw clenched, then sank again, defeated by their numbers.
    One of the four douchenozzles leered over his shoulder, so I got a look at his face—as Slytherin-snide as it was in eighth grade. Seth Ross.
    Sophie was fighting to recover a smile and I was steeling myself to march over and slug him again if need be, whensomebody slapped a folded piece of notebook paper down on my plastic tray, startling me back into my seat.
    I whipped around to see QB striding away, trailing Darius. QB had been getting more than his share of negative attention in the wake of today’s bombshell, but right now, Darius’s glower seemed to have opened a path in front of them, allowing them to escape without overt mocking. Football had its perks—even if you never won a game.
    I unfolded