Inhale

Chapter 11 - Disagreements

After the dramatic event, we were dismissed to lunch. As expected, Phillip pulled me along as he ran towards what I assumed to be the mess hall. Two lines, one full people and the other significantly less full, were in my sight. Despite stepping over to line up in the longer line, the boy dragged me into the shorter line, which gathered some unfriendly groans from people in the other.

"Phillip, why are we in this line?"

"Didn't I tell you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm kind of an important kid, since my father's a high-ranking officer-it's almost a right for me to be in this line. After all, everyone related to or is of importance gets into this line. 'Cause, you know... the more important you are, the better you deserve to be treated."

"Don't you feel guilty?"

"Not really. My dad has fed that phrase to me throughout my life, so I don't really feel anything," he said in response, and soon, we got to the front of the line. On one side, there were pork-chops with a side of well-dressed caesar salad. On the other, there was what appeared to be mystery meat and green beans... God, I hate green beans.

"I'd like the pork-chops and salad, and thank you!" Phil sang, as the lunch-lady provided the dish to the boy. Then, he rotated to me. "What are you getting? Wait, never mind: that's a stupid question. Only idiots would get-"

"Ma'am, may I please have the mystery meat with a side of green beans?" I requested before he could finish. She stared at me intensely for a second, but still served it to me. "Thanks."

"Do you like green beans or something?" Phillip questioned as we walked out of the line and into the mess hall, which lived up to its name.

"No, in fact, I despise them," I responded. "However, I like a surprise."

"You're a weirdo," he chuckled, as we walked towards a cleaner table and sat down. "Anyways, I can't tell you how happy I am that it's lunch time! I don't know about you, but I've got a serious case of the munchies!" Instantly, my face fell. The munchies? Who calls it that?

"Do you know how idiotic you sound right now?"

"What, do you not like that word?" he asked mischievously, leaning closer towards me. "Does it bother you when I say munchies? Does that word bother you?"

"Phillip," I murmured. "I swear, if you keep saying that..."

"Munchies, munchies, munchies! Who's got the munchies? I've got the munchies! Who's got the munchies? Al's got the munchies!" the boy sang, swinging clumsily to the tune of his melody. I scowled and stared right at the boy.

"Phillip, I swear: being called 'Al' already irritates me, but hearing the word 'munchies'... I'm going to stick your munchies up you-"

"Alastair!" exclaimed a voice, intercepting our conversation. I felt a light grip on my shoulder and glanced back to see Esmae standing behind me, holding a tray of the mystery meat abomination. "Thank God I caught up with you! I was looking for you!"

"Is that the girl from before? She's kinda cute," Phillip commented, innocently tilting his head as he peered behind me, making eye contact with Esmae. He blinked several times with that curious look in his eye. For a moment, he said not a word, as if he was pondering what to believe, but then, he grinned sweetly. "Is she your girlfriend, Al?"

"He wishes he could get someone as cute as me," she giggled, standing taller. "But I'm not really anyone important to him... after all, I just lived in the same orphanage as he did."

"Al, you're an orphan?" Phillip asked, shaking my shoulders to my irritation. "Why didn't you tell me that? Aren't we supposed to be friends?" he sobbed, making a scene in the middle of the mess hall.