Oranges

     They were on their Senior class trip.  The whole class crammed into a school bus.  It was loud and raucous but everyone was kind.  No cliques or bullies just friend that had spent the last 18 years learning and growing in the same river town.  A couple of All-Americans were passing out oranges.  The petite girl one in the plain dress reached for one. The dark-haired man-boy with flashing brown eyes stopped his friend's hand. "Not her.  She isn't like that."  They exchanged looks and the orange was withdrawn.
    Leila sat there confused.  No one had drawn a distinction like that before today.  Sure that boy's father owned the grocery store, but that had never mattered before.  Why had he kept something as lovely and easy to come by as a piece of fruit from her.  Always a considerate classmate... Maybe that other boy or... No logical answers but meanness came to her mind.  The grocer's son and the pharmacist son had ganged up against her.  They had more money and better... everything.  That must be it! The line drawn by the iron rails through town must finally be dividing her classmates.
     Jenny sat next to her with a puff of her frothy skirt. She laughed loudly ending with a snort. Leila was surprised.  Jenny had half an orange in her hand.  The citrus hung in the air as the entire bus indulged in the juicy sweetness shared so freely.
     Patricia leans forward to whisper in Leila's ear, "They put vodka in the oranges!"
     It clicked.  She wasn't that kind of girl.  He was protecting her.  The pharmacist and the grocer had teamed up! One supplied the fruit. The other brought liquor and a syringe.  If any thing they were going to bring the classmates closer together!  That camaraderie was real. The classmates actually did care about one another.  Leila, from the other side of the tracks, didn't "party".  The son of a well to do business owner protected her like a little sister.
     Sometimes we are told no for our own well being.