Thirty dollars was a pretty inconvenient amount of money. You couldn't buy any really decent clothes with it, and she had enough cheap stuff. It wasn't enough to buy any of the games she was interested in, either, and who paid for anime anymore when there was Youtube, the Pirate Bay, and about a hundred shady Chinese websites to get it from? Besides, if she came back with more stuff to do in her room, her mom would probably pitch a fit.
She picked a butter-soaked, salt-encrusted pretzel from What a Twist and plopped down at empty table to eat it. She could see families, couples, groups of friends--how the hell was she supposed to make friends, anyway? It wasn't like she was a jerk to people, but somehow the weird social dance that everyone else was so good at always ended with her flat on her face. Why couldn't her mom just let her stay in her room where she was comfortable?
Okay. I'll finish this pretzel, then I'll talk to someone.
And say what? What was she supposed to do, just insert herself into one of the groups of girls? She'd just make them uncomfortable.
She finished the pretzel.
Damn. Well. Maybe I'll have some ice cream first.
She ate it as slowly as possible, allowing it to almost fully melt by the time she was licking the last drops of it off her hand. Okay. Now she was going to go talk to someone.
Halfway towards a smaller group, one of the girls looked up and met her eye. Charlotte stared back.
Shit! I'm staring. I can't sit down there now, she'll think I'm a freak.
She swerved into the line at the burger stand and nailed her gaze to the menu, hoping her blush wasn't visible though the powder on her face. I'll just people-watch a little more. Can't hurt, right?
Shit. I wonder if it's possible to blow through thirty bucks just at the food court.
It wasn't, as it turned out, but it took her a double cheeseburger meal, three tacos, and a slice of pizza to find out. Charlotte's stomach raised the white flag with a ten dollar bill to spare.
She chucked the latest wad of napkins and wax paper into the trash. This is it, she resolved, picking out another group of girls. I'm going to go sit with them if it kills me. I'll just... be myself. Okay, here I go.
Halfway to the table, she realized something.
Wait. They're all eating. I can't just sit down without any food. How weird would that be? I mean, why would I even be doing it?
She turned. Fuuuuuck. If she sat down without food, she'd look like some socially awkward chick who was trying and failing to make friends. Which was exactly what she was, but she didn't want them to know it.
Maybe I could grab another slice or something?
The thought made her slightly queasy. She was already uncomfortably full, thanks to all that procrastination-inspired snacking. The last thing she needed was more food.
But if she could just make one friend, her mom would be so happy. And a happy mom translated into big money and way less nagging.
Suck it up, Charlotte, she resolved, buying another slice and heading over to the table of teenage girls. She tugged her t-shirt down over the crescent of pale flesh peeking out at her midriff. Time to... to... shit, just don't screw it up, okay?
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