Survival

Chapter 27 Don't worry

The cafeteria hummed with life, and for a moment Mischa lost herself in the din, almost imagining she sat across from her best friend Vita or the illusive Gunnar. Her heart pleaded with her eyes to stay closed and enjoy the illusion, but the calls of the other teens brought her back to cold reality.

The trays still boasted their loud orange colour, and the lines continued to move at a glacial pace in this brave new world. The food wasn't the same. She might as well take on the vegan moniker with the limited animal products the cafeteria actually served. Butter, cheese, bacon, what she wouldn't give for just a taste. She glared at the tuna slop which passed for meat today. She assumed they would be back to eating like rabbits tomorrow. A sigh escaped her lips as she dropped the tray on the table almost in hopes that it would spill, and she'd be spared this fate.

"Mischa," a friendly voice called from behind.

She turned around to see April, hair tressed and small white flowers poking out of it. Mischa's eyes wandered down to the granite floor just to confirm that the girl still hadn't taken to wearing footwear. April shook her head and scrunched up her face.

"One month and you still can't believe it," April teased. She set her tray of garden salad and tomato chickpea curry on the table.

"I've just never met anyone who hates shoes as much as you do," Mischa replied and took a seat beside a boy of sixteen with glasses as thick as his dark eyebrows. He paid the hobbit girl some attention.

"What's the flower of the day?"

"Thank you for asking, Navjot, it's Bittercress," April replied and pulled one out to examine, inches from her forest green eyes.

"Any luck finding food? As wonderful as these flowers are to look at..." The tall guy in a blue button-up sweater started.

"Quinton, you have to respect the process. A concentration of certain plant species indicates conditions that may be favourable to sow, raise and harvest our choice crops."

April's logic brought a small smile to Mischa's lips. After a few conversations, Mischa had come to the conclusion that April was an old soul trapped in a teen's body.

"The day I get a big ol' steak on this plate, I'll stop asking." Quinton winked at her.

"I second that," Mischa replied. Her salivary glands wetted themselves just thinking about that scrumptious hunk of meat.

"Mischa, I know I'm attractive, but the drooling is making the others uncomfortable."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at Quinton. She hadn't actually been drooling but her face must have given away her desire. Of course he would interpret it as a response to himself. Arrogant boys had survived the apocalypse after all. "You're awful."

"Awfully charming."

April chuckled. "The Aymaran tribe have a word for pride like that-"

"So do Americans, we call it bullsh-"

"Mischa, please, no good will come of your anger," April said as calm as a kindergarten teacher.

If April weren't one of the few young women in the colony or such a gentle soul, Mischa would consider standing her ground. The girl's tender nature had soothed her grievances over the past month and Mischa had no desire to lose her support.

"Lucky," Mischa mouthed to Quinton.

She didn't dare look back at him after that. Her cheeks flushed as she squashed that stupid feeling in her chest. It wasn't fair for her heart to race and her palms to sweat around him. The injustice of it all made her stomach churn on top of the canned tuna mixture which stunk up her plate. Why was she the one to sit here fed, safe and finding random guys attractive? If she gave in, it meant nothing had changed, that Vita and Gunnar's unknown status didn't concern her.