—Here you go, she said.
When I resisted, someone grabbed my elbow and pushed my arm forward.
—Hurry up and take it!
Another girl grabbed my wrist and pressed the can into my hand.
—Don’t you dare drop it! she said. Everyone’s friendship is in there!
—No need to hold back! I’m sure it’s delicious!
—You love orange juice, don’t you?
—You’re not gonna betray our friendship, are you? Hurry up and drink it!
—Why aren’t you drinking? Get a move on it!
Bombarded with comments, I brought the can close to my face. But I couldn’t manage to put it to my lips.
—Don’t be shy! Here, let me help you. Jeez, you’re so much trouble.
Saying this, Mina grabbed my wrist. Another girl grabbed my hair from behind, so I couldn’t turn my head, while two other girls held me down, so I couldn’t run away. Then Mina put the can to my mouth. Since my mouth was closed, the juice flowed over my chin and down my neck. But then a hand reached out and plugged my nose to force my mouth open, while another hand held my chin. This time, the gloppy mixture was poured into my mouth. My throat convulsed, and fluid from my stomach pushed up against the fluid coming down. There were screams, and then the sound of the can falling on the floor.
—Disgusting!
—Eww, it got on my uniform!
—Mine, too!
As I doubled over, I saw chunks of half-digested vegetables scattered throughout the orange-and-white-colored vomit. The sight caused me to retch again. I quickly covered my mouth, but the vomit gushed through my fingers. I crouched down, and as the tears came to my eyes, everything became blurry. Don’t cry! I told myself. That’ll only make things worse! Curling myself into a ball, I tried to make myself disappear.
—She’s so disgusting!
—Yeah, and we just finished cleaning!
—We have classes in the afternoon, you know!
—If you’re gonna throw up, do it outside!
—You, idiot! Don’t you know it stinks?!
—You betrayed everyone’s friendship! And we were so worried about you.
—She’s dangerous, isn’t she?!
Somehow, I managed to apologize out loud.
—Oh, you poor thing! said someone, squatting down beside me. Are you okay?
She wrapped her arm around me, and a split second later, I felt a piercing pain in my back. As I jerked back, a gold-colored thumbtack rolled across the floor.
—Jeez! And she was just trying to be nice! said the student in the broadcasting club.
As everyone laughed, the chime sounded.
—Mr. Tamaki’s coming! someone called from the hallway, and everyone scurried to their seats.
Our social studies teacher entered the classroom and immediately sensed that something was wrong. He stopped the class representative from initiating the class greeting and looked out over the podium. When he noticed me crouched down at the back of the room, he walked down the aisle to check on me.
—What’s wrong? he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder and stooping down to look in my face.
—Nothing, I said.
—Well, obviously something’s wrong, he said, sounding a bit annoyed.
When I fell silent, he shook me by the shoulders and yelled:
—Tell me what happened!
—When she was drinking juice, said the girl in the last seat, she choked and spit up.
—Really? asked the teacher, turning toward her.
—Yes, really, said another girl. We were telling jokes, and she laughed so hard she choked on her orange juice.
—That happened before, too, didn’t it? said a boy by the window.
—Really? cut in another boy. She puked before?
Some other students laughed. Taking his hand off my shoulder, the teacher stared at me and asked:
—Is that really what happened?
—Yes, I’m sorry, I answered.
—Why don’t I take her to the school nurse? Mina called out.
My body instinctively went stiff.
—Sure, would you do that, please?
As the teacher stood up, Mina hurried over to me.
—Let’s wash your face, she said in a gentle voice.
She put one arm around my back, another under my arm, and pulled me to my feet. As we were leaving the room, I heard one of the volleyball team members calling to the teacher:
—I’ll help, too! I’ll clean up!
With Mina’s hefty arm around my shoulder, we shuffled over to the sink in the hallway. As instructed, I washed my hands and face, and then rinsed out my mouth. I could feel the stares of not only my own class but of the neighboring class, too. I wanted to use the soap, but I just rinsed off and turned off the tap. When Mina held out her handkerchief, I hung my head.
—What’s wrong? It’s okay. You can use it.
When I still wouldn’t take it, she said:
—Here, let me do that for you.
She wiped my face, and then my neck, too. When she finished, I stood there passively until she draped her arm over my shoulder.
—Let’s go, she said.
As we headed to the nurse’s room, I could feel students from every classroom staring at me. Halfway down the stairs, Mina pulled me tightly to her side and whispered in my ear:
—You tell anyone what happened, and we’ll never forgive you. You got that?
—I won’t say anything, I answered in a shaky voice.
When we arrived at the nurse’s room, I gave the same explanation that had been given to my social studies teacher.
—Is that so? asked the nurse.
I nodded, then turned to Mina and thanked her.
—Well, she said consolingly, have a nice rest.
With my eyes turned down, I nodded. Mina returned to the classroom, and the nurse handed me a spare PE shirt and told me to change out of my uniform. After I said thanks and changed, she asked me to take my temperature. I sat down on the bed and put the thermometer under my arm.
—How do you feel? Do you still feel nauseous?
—No, I’m okay.
—Has this happened before?
—No.
—Do you have any allergies?
—No, uh, nothing at all.
—Today’s lunch was cream stew, right? Did you feel strange after eating?
—No, not at all.
—Did you have breakfast?
—No, uh, I didn’t.
—Do you ever have breakfast?
—No, not usually.
—I see....
The thermometer beeped, so I took it out and handed it to her. She looked at the
