Sia by Josh Grayson

you didn’t want to eat that stuff.”
    “ It wasn’t that,” I mutter. “I just lost my appetite.”
    A group of kids cluster by the door of the cafeteria, talking and laughing, inadvertently blocking our exit.
    “ Excuse me,” I say quietly. When they don’t acknowledge me, I say it again, a little louder.
    “ The ladies want outta here. Step aside, minions,” Duke proclaims, barging through the group, shoving kids to the floor as he goes.
    Amber strolls along behind him, coldly superior to everyone around her.
    I shuffle along, wedged between them, feeling utterly miserable.
    After the three o’clock bell rings, Amber corners me and asks again if I'm coming out to cheerleading practice. I tell her I’m not, then reject Duke’s offer to drive me home. When he starts to argue, I assure him my driver is on his way.
    “ I’m just really tired,” I tell him, managing a small smile.
    The real reason is that I feel ill. Literally. My head is spinning with questions, and my heart just aches. While I wait for John to pick me up, I sit on a step outside the school. I watch the kids go by. No one stops to say hello to me, and I’m starting to understand why. Then I see Kyle trudging out of the school, shaking his thick brown hair back from his brow. I decide to go talk to him. But he changes direction when he sees me approaching.
    “ Wait! Kyle? Is that your name? Kyle?”
    He stops but doesn’t turn around.
    Undaunted, I run up from behind. “Listen, I just wanted to apologize for Duke in the cafeteria today.”
    “ Why? Can’t he take care of that himself?”
    “ I guess he can, but I don’t think manners are his strong point.”
    Kyle squints at me, trying to read my expression, so I keep my eyes wide open. If he’s looking for dishonesty or cruelty, I’m determined he won’t find any there.
    “ I don’t get it,” he says skeptically. “Why would you apologize to me? ”
    I shrug. “Because it was wrong of him to be like that.”
    “ If you’re gonna apologize on behalf of Duke, you should apologize to Ben, not me.”
    “ Um . . . okay, I will.”
    After a moment of quiet, Kyle says, “Okay. Thanks.” He sniffs and looks at the ground, obviously uncomfortable. “As long as we’re apologizing, I guess I owe you one, too.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry about yelling at you at the soup kitchen. That was you, right?”
    I nod.
    “ So I guess it was my yelling that made you run into the street, wasn’t it?”
    I nod again.
    “ Well, I’m really sorry. About all that. I had no idea.”
    “ Of course you didn’t. Don’t worry about it.” I look down the street, past Kyle, but I can’t see John and the car yet. I glance down at my nails, still torn and ratty from living homeless. “What were you doing there, anyway?” I ask.
    He shrugs. “I volunteer there sometimes.”
    “ Oh.”
    “ My parents own a bakery nearby. I work there almost every afternoon. When we have day-old bread and stuff, I take it over to them.”
    “ You . . . Oh!” I suddenly recall the slice of bread I’d enjoyed just before Kyle yelled at me that day. Soft, homemade, and unforgettable. It brings a smile to my face. “Well, I know from personal experience that they really appreciate that. It’s very generous of you and your family.”
    “ It’s the least we can do.” He hesitates. “So you’d been eating there?”
    “ Yup. All week. With my friend Carol.”
    “ Carol? That older lady? I know her. She’s sweet. Helps a lot of the kids out. I guess she’s kind of a teacher for lost souls, huh?”
    “ You could say that,” I agree, remembering my wise friend fondly.
    A dark car pulls up to the curb.
    I smile with apology. “Sorry, but I have to go. That’s John, here to pick me up. So are we okay?”
    “ We?”
    “ Yeah. You and me.”
    After a second, he returns my smile and holds out a hand. “Sure.”
    I step closer so I can shake it, and while I’m there I purposefully