The cafeteria sweltered with the temperature of over 100 children huddled together in groups, both big and small bodies amalgamating into one mass. Tables covered in grime shook as the force of reckless kids laughing and socializing with their buddies was barely audible over the consistent and ever-present chatter that seemed to come exclusively in a lunchroom. In the back corner 3 tables away from the door leading outside, one student named Cassius sat, banging their fists on the plastic surface.
Their friends beside them conversed loudly, one girl laughing at what the boys around her contributed. Cassius didn't pay any attention to this foreign exchange of chatter, though. They were too focused on what was directly in their front and peripheral vision at the moment: the table.
It's surface was smooth and solid, a gorgeous currant to commemorate to the school's signature colors: red, white, and black. Its tough tabletop's crimson color was intriguing, accompanied boldly with a black rim to enunciate school pride. The rest of the student body couldn't possibly see what Cassius themself was through the rose-tinted glasses of true love. One couldn't imagine the turmoils they were willing to face, the boundaries they were willing to cross, just so their hand could be firmly clasped with the loving table's in the wondrous throes of total eudaemonia and lifelong unity.
Letting the binds of social standards release itself from Cassius's weight, they threw themself onto the table, kissing it passionately. Onlookers stared in bemusement and shock, wondering what mental impairment could possible cause such irrevocable and vile behavior (No wonder that's the shared special education table). Whispers among the majority began to rise, and those congregated around Cassius looked in in horrific distaste, although less than other outsiders as they were used to this heinous behavior. While Cassius was still passionately groping and smothering the table with smooches that made even the most loveliest of couples sick, jaunting and teasing accompanied the descent of teachers and other members of the school staff committee who set out to embark on a simple quest: extract the student from the (Perpetually harassed) table. They pried Cassius's firm grip away from the smooth polyethylene surface, long and jagged scratch marks being left from the hands of the rabid student's wake.
The makeshift security group escorted Cassius away from the lunchroom, leaving the rest of the student population to finish their mediocre school lunches in general peace.
Sitting in bed charged with the crime of school property destruction and mistreatment, respectively sentenced with out-of-school suspension, Cassius tenderly caresses the bandages encasing their upper fingers and fingernails. They reminisce on their short-lived affair with the school lunch table, and reflect on what could have been a beautiful and prosperous relationship. Meanwhile, the assaulted table in question sheds a single syrupy tear, letting the substance ooze down its plastic-y cheek slowly. It too remembers that horrible day and lets out the best shudder a table can manage, hoping for the instance to be wiped from its memory as soon as mentally possible.
