Page 36 of The Intruder

I can’t keep my eyes off Brittany.

I’ve always admired her. Envied her. I mean, who wouldn’t? She is beautiful, she dresses really nice, she gets great grades, and she’s the most popular girl in our class. Every girl at the middle school wishes she was Brittany Carter.

And she’s my sister.

Today I get in line behind Brittany and her friend Meredith in the cafeteria line for the hot lunch, even though I brought a bagged lunch, and also, I don’t have any money.

But Brittany and I don’t sit together in any of our classes, so it’s the only opportunity I have to be close to her. I have to try.

Brittany has the shiniest, glossiest black hair I’ve ever seen.

Actually, up close, it’s more like very dark brown.

She has one little pimple right at her hairline, but other than that, her skin is really clear.

She’s not all oily like a lot of other kids in the class.

I wonder if she has some special skin regimen she does. I wonder if she’d tell me.

And she has very clear blue eyes. Identical to mine.

She glances over her shoulder, noticing me standing behind her. My heart speeds up. “Hey,” I say.

She pauses for a moment, as if trying to decide if she should answer. “Hey,” she eventually says.

I open my mouth, trying to come up with something interesting to say to the great Brittany Carter, but before I can, she turns back to Meredith.

She whispers something in Meredith’s ear, who whispers something back, and then the two of them burst into hysterical giggles. I wonder if they’re talking about me.

When we get to the front of the line, where we pay at the cash register prior to getting a hot lunch, Brittany and Meredith hand over their money to Glenda, the lunch lady. Then Glenda looks at me.

“Uh…” I check my pockets, even though I know I don’t have anything in them. “Sorry, I think I forgot it in my locker.”

Brittany and Meredith are watching the entire exchange.

They look at each other and start giggling again.

My face burns and I step out of the line.

I don’t know why I even did that. It’s not like I thought some money would materialize in my pocket while I was standing in line.

Now Brittany just thinks I’m even more of a loser than I was before.

At least I’ve got my bag lunch, so I won’t starve.

As I trudge back to the tables of the cafeteria, I catch sight of Anton, who is sitting by himself instead of with his friends, who all get in trouble about as much as he does.

He waves me over to him, which is something he has been doing a lot lately.

I join him at the table and drop into the seat across from him, my face still stinging with humiliation.

Anton takes a bite from what looks like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “You need to stop thinking about Brittany and her stupid family,” he says, reading my mind. He’s good at that lately.

He’s the only person I have told about any of this, and I wish he would be more supportive. But it’s at least nice to have somebody to talk to about it.

“It’s my family too,” I point out.

He shakes his head. “Forget about her. She’s not worth it.”

I dig into my brown paper bag and pull out the three pieces of bread I packed for lunch. But as soon as I pull them out, I spot the telltale brownish green color. Mold.

Damn. I really thought I checked them. I should have just brought power bars, but the first three boxes I found were expired, and expired power bars hurt my teeth.

I push away the bread, my stomach growling angrily. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to concentrate in my afternoon classes when I’m starving. My body feels like it’s going to start eating itself soon.

“Hey.” Anton reaches into his own brown paper bag and pulls out a square wrapped in clear plastic. “I’ve got an extra sandwich if you want it. Peanut butter and jelly.”

Yes, of course I want it. So badly. It’s an effort not to snatch it out of his hands and shove the whole thing in my mouth in one bite. But I also don’t want to be a charity case.

Anton notices the look on my face and nudges the sandwich so that it’s in front of me. “It’s no big deal.” He shrugs. “Just a sandwich.”

And when he says it’s no big deal, suddenly it is no big deal anymore. Like he said, it’s just a sandwich. I grab it and start eating, careful to remind myself to chew.

“Hey, Ella,” he says. “Want to go to the movies after school?”

I make a face at him. “I don’t want to sneak into the movie theater.”

Everyone knows Anton and his friends sneak into the theater all the time. I heard them bragging about it. But I don’t want to get caught doing something like that. I don’t want my father to think I’m a criminal.

“We don’t have to sneak in,” he says. “We can buy tickets.”

Buy tickets? I can’t even afford school lunch. “I don’t have money for movie tickets.”

“I’ll pay for the tickets. I got money.”

“I can’t pay you back though.”

“You don’t have to.”

I take another bite from my sandwich. Anton already gave me part of his lunch—I don’t want to owe him movie tickets too. “I don’t really feel like going to the movies.”

Anton looks disappointed, but he doesn’t push me about it. He doesn’t understand. Even though he hates his dad, at least he knows who his father is. At least his father is willing to acknowledge that Anton is his son. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be me. Nobody does.