Spoiled Secrets

Chapter V

Farah brought Laurel to a table in the far corner of the room where John and Meadow sat. Laurel was glad to be away from the chattering crowds finally, but he was still uncomfortable around his new roommates, especially how they would react to his spoiled milk.

Would they gag? Would they see it as completely normal? Would they even notice it at all? Soon enough, John slightly gagged and wrinkled his nose.

"What's that foul smell?" he whined. "It smells like diapers!! I hate diapers!!"

"Oh, uh, sorry..." Laurel said, lifting his cup. "It's the milk they gave me...it's like...spoiled and all moldy. I tried to give it back to them, but—" Farah immediately swiped the cup from his hands before he could continue, spilling a few drops on the table.

"Farah!" Meadow berated. "That was rude!"

"My rudeness doesn't matter right now, Meadow! You already know what this...'drink'... can do! I'm just saving him from becoming like those addicted psychos!"

"Just because they like the milk doesn't mean they're psychos! Sure, a little crazy, but they haven't hurt anyone, and from what I know, they've never gotten sick either!"

"You can't know that for sure! I'm telling you, this milk is what turns them into complete wackos at nighttime—"

"Not with this stupid theory again, Farah! For the last time, those kids weren't responsible for their disappearance! And the milk—"

"Uh, guys..." Laurel interrupted, confused and lost. "What psychos? What are you guys talking about?"

"It's the milk, Laurel! Don't drink the milk! I'm telling you, it's—"

"Farah! Stop it! You're gonna scare him!" Meadow chided. She sighed like they had this conversation before. She turned to Laurel and calmly explained everything to him.

"There's a group of kids in this orphanage who are kind of...well...outcasts. They're the only ones who purposefully drink the spoiled milk in the orphanage instead of throwing it away like everyone else. They've never gotten sick from what I've heard, but people just think they're a little weird, that's all."

"And—" Farah started before Meadow cut her off.

"And  Farah here has this little theory that the milk turns them into complete psychos at nighttime, wielding knives or something and attacking other kids. She thinks they're responsible for a few kids who've gone missing recently, even though there's, like, no evidence."

"No evidence?" Farah said, sounding outraged. "I've seen it with my own eyes! They're always super rude to anyone outside their group, even the maids, and whenever we do activities, they're just all huddled together and whispering! Like they're plotting something! They're always twitching, too, like they have bugs in their clothes or something! And tell me, what sane person willingly drinks milk that looks like this?" She held up the milk, showing its moldy contents. "And on some nights, I swear I can hear them outside, walking up and down the halls and talking to each other. I'm telling you, they were holding knives! I've seen it! I swear I've seen it—"

"Farah..."

Farah ignored her as she continued her dramatic rant to Laurel. "And every single time I hear them outside...poof...an orphan is missing the next morning! Just gone! Like magic! But no, I'm telling you, those psychos killed those kids—"

"Farah, that's enough!" Meadow reprimanded, glaring at her. "That's too far, those kids haven't killed anyone! Your theories are ridiculous."

Farah rolled her eyes and murmured "yOu'Re RiDicULOuS". She turned back to Laurel and lifted the cup towards him. 

"Why didn't you throw this away? You knew that it was spoiled. It's common sense to just throw it away."

"I tried to," Laurel said. "But a maid caught me and forced me to keep the drink."

"Yeah, that's why you have to do it while they're not looking," Farah said, staring solemnly at the maids a few yards away from her. "They act like they don't know it's spoiled, which makes me think they're in on it somehow...Anyway, I'll throw this away for you. I'm really, really sorry for not reminding you about it."

"But..." Farah continued, lowering her voice so Meadow didn't hear her. "Whatever Meadow says, steer clear of those kids, alright? They're the moody-looking ones over there."

She pointed to a group of five kids on the opposite side of the room from them, three girls and two boys. She was right, they looked rather creepy, and like they would be rude. Even from a distance, Laurel could see their hair was messier than the others, their uniforms significantly more threadbare, and like what Farah said, they were twitching. Every few seconds, their necks or their arms or their legs would jerk, seemingly involuntarily, like they had ants in their pants. They had a weird, dark aura around them, and Laurel was already intimidated.

"I'll..." Laurel said. "I'll make sure to stay out of their way."

"Good," Farah said, her eyes twinkling. "I'm liking you more by the second, Laurel. I'm glad you're our new roommate." She winked and patted his shoulder before getting up to throw the milk away.

Laurel smiled to himself. Though still a little put off by them, particularly Farah, he knew his previous prediction was correct: maybe this place wouldn't be so bad. He was starting to like his roommates, or rather, his friends.

"Come on," Farah said when she got back. "Let's eat! Your first day here is almost over!