“What, hungover you mean?” said Honesty. “Give us your fruit, Nona.”

“I already promised it to Ruby,” said Nona, whose portion was always promised before class started, sometimes days in advance.

“Fuck you, Ruby,” said Honesty. “You know I want it when it’s stone fruit.”

“You shouldn’t always get whatever you want,” said Beautiful Ruby.

“I never get whatever I want,” said Honesty, inconsolable.

“If you swear again I’ll make you go and put your name up on the board,” said Nona.

Hot Sauce said—

“The Angel doesn’t drink.”

Born in the Morning wanted to know how Hot Sauce knew. Hot Sauce simply said, “Because I know,” which ended that line of questioning.

Beautiful Ruby, perhaps buoyed by being that day’s fruit recipient, held out cupped hands for the foodstuff in question and said: “Hey, you don’t look so well lately, Nona. You look kind of sick.”

Everyone turned to look at Nona, who writhed beneath this judgement, and they agreed that she had not looked well for, like, weeks. “I do,” she said indignantly. “Look at my braids—I look wonderful,” which thankfully replaced their worry with a group effort to squash her vanity. They often took it in turns to squash Nona’s vanity, which never worked. Beautiful Ruby, the best-looking out of them all and therefore the authority on looks, had once said, “You got the face of a rat and the body of a dead person,” but Nona knew she was beautiful and was complacent about it. Even if they all assured her that she was nothing to write home about, she could say, “Who cares? I can’t write,” and then they had to switch tack and squash her for being proud that she was so goddamned stupid. Nona quite liked this really; it made her feel like she belonged. They were all proud of her stupidity, in the same way that they were proud of Honesty’s rampant crimes and of Hot Sauce being the most important person in the universe.

Ruby ate all of his stone fruit and nearly all of Nona’s too, then he magnanimously said, “I’m full. Honesty, you take the last bit. I get fruit at home.”

Honesty was not overburdened with shame. “Lucky boy, lucky boy,” he said, and he tossed the fruit up in the air—the rest of them shouted—and caught it in his mouth, which he always did. Honesty had the widest mouth Nona had ever seen. He chewed and did not bother to finish chewing before he said, “I don’t mind telling you I need the blood sugar. I’ve got a job after lunch.”

Born in the Morning scoffed, “Real job or Honesty job?” but Born in the Morning was always a bit of a stickler.

“Real job, sunshine, real job. Underground,” he added, and tapped his nose mysteriously.

Hot Sauce said—

“Dangerous.”

“I know; those tunnels is hell,” said Honesty baldly. “But I’ll be in a car the whole time and no shooty-shooty, it’s just stripping stuff off the pipes again.”