Chapter 6

Standing in the lunch queue, Morgan read the lunch options with a heavy heart. Her favourite, spaghetti bolognaise, was the meat option. The vegetarian option was cheese flan.

‘I’m not sure what a flan is, but it doesn’t sound good,’ Morgan sighed to herself.

She eyed the piles of green and red tokens for a moment before selecting a green one and turning it over in her fingers like a poker chip. Handing it in, the lunch lady served her a flan, which looked suspiciously like a square shaped quiche.

Her friends eyed her with a mixture of confusion and suspicion as she veered away from the popular table and took a seat beside Damien. It didn’t escape her notice when he rolled his eyes, an action that inflicted pain, but at least he didn’t tell her to go away.

With her fork she stabbed the flan, picking off a small bite.

Chewing it, her suspicions were confirmed. It was basically a quiche Lorraine without the bacon.

‘The bacon is the only good part,’ she thought, chewing with a joyless mechanical action. The mixture was eggy tasting and the pastry on the bottom was soggy.

She looked at Damien’s plate, seeing he had a salad instead.

“Don’t you like flan?” she asked.

“I can’t eat that—it has cheese and eggs,” Damien told her.

“Oh, you’re not a vegan?” Morgan asked, horrified.

‘I can’t be a vegan!’ she panicked silently.

“Meat is murder and dairy is rape,” Damien said. One of his friends rolled his eyes.

“But bacon tastes so good,” the friend said.

“He’s not wrong,” Morgan said.

“Full disclosure, if you want to be my girlfriend, I AM going to force my lifestyle choices on you,” Damien said. He looked down at her plate with disdain. “I’ll forgive you for today.”

“Morgan Riley is your girlfriend?” the bacon lover asked. The look on his face was one of disbelief.

“I mean, she’ll do,” Damien said. He slapped his hand onto her thigh and squeezed hard, causing his male friends to cheer.

Erin—his only female friend—looked away, hiding the sad look on her face. It had occurred to Morgan that Erin was into Damien, but she didn’t feel guilty about stealing him. Her feelings toward him were outside of her control.

She felt her heart thud as she heard a scraping of chair legs, followed by footsteps as Rhys and Matt approached the table.

“Oi, whose girl are you touching?” Rhys asked. He looked back to the popular table. “Toby, aren’t you going to say something, man?”

“Whose girl are you, Morgan?” Damien asked. He didn’t look or sound worried about the threat from the two larger boys.

Morgan turned to face her former friends. “I’m with Damien, now.”

“What the fuck?” Rhys asked. “Why?”

“Because Damien is an all-encompassing light,” Morgan told him in her firm voice.

When Damien smiled and shrugged at this outlandish description, Rhys moved forward, arms tensing as though he was about to strike. Morgan used the strength in her legs to shove her chair out and into his path.

“Ouch,” he cried, grabbing his shins.

“Respect my decision,” Morgan said, standing to face him.

“Yeah, like you deserve respect. You didn’t even break it off with Toby before jumping on that weirdo,” Rhys said. He was correct, but all Morgan could focus on was the fact he’d just insulted her beloved.

“Don’t you call him that,” she snarled.

“I’m cool with it. Weird is accurate,” Damien input, raising his hand. “Oh, and you are going to have to change your look, Morgan.”

Damien turned to her, making a sweeping motion. “I’m not into this.”

Morgan looked down at her clothes, ashamed of her looks for the first time.

‘How many times have I put down another girl for their clothing choices?’ she thought. ‘Is this how they felt?’

Guilt mingled with shame as she sat back down, shoving her hands between her knees and looking down at her inadequate clothes.

“You can’t talk to her—” Rhys started to say, but Toby dragged him away.

“She made her choice, man, just leave her. She’s not one of us anymore,” Toby said quietly.

‘I’m not one of them anymore?’ Morgan thought. She didn’t feel any sadness, wasn’t crying, yet warm tears were streaming down her face. She pulled out her compact mirror and pressed powder to deal with the inky black tracks before Damien noticed.

“W—what do you want me to wear?” she asked.

“Erin can help you in that department. You girls can go shopping together,” Damien suggested.

Erin gave a lacklustre smile. She didn’t seem keen on the idea but would probably go along with it.

“Let’s go, I need a coffee,” Damien said, getting up from the table. After a brief stop at the teachers’ lounge to get a black coffee, the group made their way to the courtyard.

“Why do the teachers give him coffee?” she asked the bacon fan.

“Who knows why Damien gets special treatment.” He shrugged. “I find it’s better not to ask these questions.”

He looked Morgan up and down.

“I mean, like, how did he get you, for example?” he added.

Morgan laughed, unsure of what to tell him. Would he believe her? Would anyone believe her?

“What’s you name by the way, I can’t keep calling you bacon fan in my head?” Morgan asked.

“It’s Jay, but I like Bacon Fan better,” Jay said, smiling. This was their first real conversation. Almost five years in the same school and she’d only just learned his name.

‘Maybe I’ve been missing out by sticking to my tiny clique,’ she thought.

“I don’t think I’ll manage as a vegan,” she told him quite honestly.

Damien overheard.

“You’ll have to do what I do,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Learn to survive on nothing but black coffee and pure unadulterated rage.”

Both Morgan and Jay laughed.

“Oh God, not the battle-axe,” Jay said, eyes widening as Mrs. Helen approached at what was probably her top speed.

“Damien!” she cried, out of breath and bending over to wheeze. The woman was a chain smoker, so it was hardly surprising that she couldn’t run a few feet without practically coughing up a lung.

“I wanted to thank you,” she managed to say after catching her breath. “Thank you, Damien.”

“What changed your mind?” Damien asked, eyeing her with suspicion.

“I, well, I erm, I spoke to the counsellor woman,” she stammered.

Damien sucked his teeth. “Ah, I see. Well, I guess late is better than never.”

“So, you won’t undo it?” she asked.

‘Undo what?’ Morgan wanted to know.

“Hmm, I guess it would be sort of cruel if I did,” Damien said.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Helen breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Damien. You’re an angel.”

“Err, not quite,” Damien muttered as she walked away.