Darting past cars with nimble steps, Sora crossed the road at the crosswalk and began making her way toward the bridge that would bring her to 24th Street, noticing the morning joggers were out.
She slowed around the area where Lori threatened Wendy and dumped a smoothie on her head, noticing that Frank’s shack appeared to be closed until later in the day.
Studying it in passing, Sora couldn’t recall the makeshift stand being there for long—maybe two months—and she definitely would have remembered someone as handsome and large as Frank.
“Humph… guess I’ll have to give it to him later,” she mumbled to herself while proceeding on the path to her school.
Losing track of the scent here and there, Sora grew a tad anxious when it vanished again, seeing dozens of other students walking through the field.
Yet, not soon after, she caught the aroma again.
Yes!
There it is… Her thoughts deviated upon catching sight of Hannah with two of her lackey friends, Sarah—a Hispanic sophomore with bleached hair—and Briana—an African American freshman who seemed to be favoring cornrows recently.
Changing angles a bit to evade their vision, Sora continued on her quest to find whatever food had caught her nose, using a slow group of early-morning tourists as cover.
The three bullies typically had her buy them manicures or used her funds to change their hairstyles every month, and since she was heading toward the salon, she didn’t want to get sidetracked by them inserting themselves.
Successfully dodging anyone who might try to stop her, Sora hummed upon making it to Purdy Avenue and halting outside an Italian restaurant; she’d found the source.
“Ugh…” Her lips tightened as her eyes settled on the closed sign and dim lights; the sign showed it was open from twelve to twelve.
She sampled the air again before puffing it out, anxiety filling her chest as the divine flavor wet her tongue; she’d never experienced something so vividly through scent alone.
Sora could taste the rich blend of spices that coated her nostrils, and whatever meat she smelled made her mouth water in anticipation of sinking her teeth into it.
She tried to tell herself the tantalizing ecstasy she envisioned had to be a lie, but it was impossible to deny with every breath she took.
Chest tightening with anticipation, she sighed before forcing herself away from the aroma and to a food cart that would satisfy her for the morning.
First block starts at 7:20, so I should head back and let Lori’s spies tell her I didn’t chicken out.
Mind putting her lunch plans on the back burner, Sora got in line behind the single customer ahead of her while digging through her purse for one of the twenties she planned to give Frank; she could stop by an ATM after school to grab a bit more.
Thinking about the image of Lori’s confusion when she saw her little trim hadn’t stuck made Sora smirk.
Lori may be a sociopath, but Kari and Jenny were really the only two she was scared of because they seemed to have the brainwashing powers.
“Heh.” Jenny does whatever Kari says, no questions asked.
Even if she wants me to stay, she won’t do a thing to upset Kari.
Actually… Sora’s eyebrows knit as she stepped forward when the businessman took his item and left; the Latino behind the stand changed his gloves and smiled at her, his Cuban accent a bit thick.
“Hola, what it be, chica?” “Breakfast burrito, please.” He nodded and began frying the sausage, eggs, and cheese; she’d add the items she wanted herself after for his assistant—son most likely—to wrap it, but Sora’s thoughts took a complete 180 as she realized something.
I haven’t stuttered once this morning!
Not with Ron and not here… Is it finally gone?
Please say it’s gone!
“Umm… How’s your morning?” The man grinned, keeping his eyes on the food.
“My English not too good—morning decent—esposa coming soon.
I am very happy.” “Congratulations!
Esposa… wife, right?” “Sí!
She comes, eh… week after next—ah, and here.” “Thank you, and exciting that your wife is joining you.” “Gracias!
Gracias!
Gracias!
For customer service.” “Mhm!” After adding a few toppings, olives, onions, and mild salsa, his young-adult son wrapped the item, handed it back to her, and gave her change.
“Have a nice day,” he said in far better English than his father.
“Thank you!” Her heart pounded with excitement as she put the money away in her side pouch; Sora wanted to cheer and cry as she walked back toward the school.
I didn’t stutter once!
Not once!
Yes!
Yes!
She finished the burrito on the journey back, and every bite brought a tingling explosion into her mouth she’d never experienced before; the sausage especially brought on a punch she wasn’t expecting.
Nearing the building, Sora threw the wrapper into a garbage can, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and reapplied chapstick from her purse.
Her focus lingered on her watch, a frown on her face, as it caught a beam of light from the street lamp.
What happened last night… Are all these noises, smells, and tastes just in my head?
Well, obviously, they are, but… Shoot, I forgot to see if Ron saw how high my heart got… Yup, it still shows over 400, she confirmed, checking her phone as she walked by the rapidly filling parking lot.
So many weird—ugh… what is that?
Nose crinkling, she looked up to see Kris—a junior in Kari’s inner circle and soccer buff—hanging out beside the doors leading into the school.
Something dirty, wet, and ragged nearby made Sora grimace, and it only increased as she drew closer to the girl.
When she reached the entrance, she had to cover her nose, unsuccessfully attempting to guard herself against the stench.
It soon became painfully obvious what the source was, and the older juniors and seniors seemed to be ignoring how bad Kris smelled.
It was as if she’d rolled in a dung heap, and Sora couldn’t return the girl’s smile as she tried not to gag.
“Glad you could make it, Sora!
Lori said to keep an eye out for you; she’s waiting in your classroom right—” “Ack,” Sora choked, making Kris pause.
“Did you… kill someone, and drag the corpse into the gym?” “Huh?
The hell!?
No…” “You reek!
Do you live with a skunk?” “Yo, cut it out,” she grumbled, cheeks darkening as a few boys gave them questioning looks on their way into the school.
“What’s up with that?
I don’t stink!
You don’t smell all that great either—not that I smell!
I have deodorant on, and—”