Seasons

Chapter 12 - Tables Turning, Literally

The lesson ended with the blaring shriek of the bell, and we all rushed out of the lab as fast we could, stuffing books into our bags without looking back.

I was the first to speak as we made our way towards the cafeteria, the halls beginning to fill with loud, hungry students.

"You guys okay?"

I realised as soon as the words left my mouth that it was a pointless question and regretted it almost instantly, but Emily attempted a smile in reply.

"I will be," muttered Rikki, "shock I guess."

I nodded slowly and wove my way through the throngs of seniors, my stomach clenching from both fear and hunger. I guess being frightened for your safety like that really burned the calories.

...

By the time we had finally reached the front of the queue for lunch, Rikki had noticeably perked up.

She sniffed the air as we picked up our blue plastic trays and sighed loudly.

"Finally," she announced to us, grinning, "air that doesn't smell of Mr Lewis's cheap cologne."

Emily giggled and ran a finger over the multiple scratches in the warm plastic. Today had turned out to be just as hot as the last and I could feel my school shirt sticking unpleasantly to my back.

I plucked a packet of cutlery from the tub and a wedge of napkins, sliding it all along the metal rails towards to shelves of food.

At my old school in England, I had become used to hot meals of casserole and shepherd's pie being cooked on a daily basis for me, so the whole American routine of picking random foods and paying for them at the end still bewildered me.

I heard Rikki mumble through her choices between a chicken wrap or some overflowing baguette before just slamming them both onto her tray in desperation, unable to choose.

I was undeniably jealous of her slim, athletic frame from all her swimming training as I chose a limp Caesar salad and a feeble looking brown roll.

I then slid further along the rails and instantly felt the cool breeze of the drinks section waft across my flushed face.

I bit my lip as I scanned my eyes over the rows upon rows of unfamiliar cans and bottles, only a few were similar to the ones I grew up with.

"Orange soda?" Rikki asked me, reading my expression.

"Yes please," I replied eagerly.

I then watched her unroll the sleeve of her shirt down her arm and over her hand, covering her fingers with the fabric. She reached forward and carefully picked up an orange can with silver writing before dropping it into my tray as if it burnt her, hurriedly wiping any moisture off on her jumper. She did the same and scooped up a purple can with Vimto scrawled along it, carefully avoiding any condensation.

"Smart," I remarked, nodding in approval as she rolled up her sleeve again, looking impressed with herself.

Once we had paid, we stood side by side scanning the quiet cafeteria.

It appeared the rest of the school had opted to eat outside on the wooden benches and lounging on the grass in the scorching heat rather than cope with the stuffy cafeteria. To be honest, I didn't blame them as I could feel a layer of sweat clinging to my forehead. Gross.

"There's a table free in the corner," said Rikki, pointing to the far end of the room next to the huge air conditioning unit that sat humming loudly and tousling the hair of the students perched around it in hope of a faint breeze.