Sorry for Being an Ordinary Magical Girl

Act 7~ Burning Bridges Before You Cross

"Have a good weekend." The phrase has been rearranged, spun around and repeated by every teacher on a Friday... Or not at all.

It was the run of a mill phrase delivered by Mr. Eliezer at the conclusion of Biology.

I didn't even notice her the entire time, but classics girl walked past me while I was grabbing my things to patiently wait by the teacher's desk. (Not sure how I didn't see her going to class. She moves like a ninja.)

I didn't want to know a thing about her business, I fled to the lunchroom where I can actually stop learning and socialize.

Our cafeteria was only slightly larger than our grand library but somehow, it still seemed too small to contain 80% of the freshmen and 10% of the sophomores.

Cliches aren't really a thing anymore. All those early to mid 21st century realistic fiction books lied. They always mentioned those stereotyped, difficult (aka frustrating)  people. Brigades now, feature mostly people of your circles--they tend to be from classes and could be anyone. For instance, that very tall guy that sits at our table. And that lavender hued girl from this morning...?!

Okay. How did I never notice her before...?

Well, it's not that far fetched right? Our brigs' table location is next to a window or more like against a physical wall. Recently, or now I find out she sits right in front of the window. I'm less likely to see someone if she's on the other end of the table and our table was positioned against the window on its long width -- not its height.

I'll quit the excuses, I'm terrible at remembering people. I sit on the same width by the window, just on the other half.

I strolled in with the busy stream of latecomers. It really tarnishes my early reputation.

Gretchen was nestled in her spot right of my usual spot; she was very into a conversation with Asher and Martha.

Silvia was burning holes in the packet in front of her while tightly gripping her lead pencil. A good signs were that she wasn't blowing her flushed nose every few seconds and had stripped off her coat. Although, her plaid scarf was still wrapped around her neck as tightly as a protective charm.

"I just think cookies are a hard chip of diabetes abomination," huffed Gretchen as she unwrapped her cheeseburger.

Where did she get that lunch from so early? Most students were still on the winding long line. Even as her best friend, I'd never know all her secret tricks.

But then again, Martha had a tray full of salad and some sliced fruit while she just gripped a regular peanut butter sandwich... The jam skillfully removed.

The line to dull sandwich lunches were always short, so that's no surprise...

I steal a french fry to feed the animal inside. The animal that craves gourmet cakes but also dips her french fries into soft serve ice cream.

Today's lunch wasn't very significant. The usual individually wrapped burgers, salad, cartons of milk, a serving of peas and a dab of mashed potatoes.

Since there was nothing special on the menu, I get to hold back on lining up with the crowd.

Gretchen didn't even notice nor cared because this... was a tense situation.