Meadow

three

LUNCH

I swim upstream, fighting against the current of hungry bodies flowing down the hallway toward the mouth of the cafeteria. Spurred on by a grumbling stomach, a hungry teenager transforms into a stumbling, ravenous zombie. I try my best not to get bitten on my way to my locker. 

It doesn't take long for the hall to clear out, and before I know it, I'm alone. I breathe in the refreshing smell of teenage absence and relish in it. The thrum of buzzing voices is getting farther away by the second, and I excitedly anticipate the incoming silence. My footsteps echo through the empty hallway, and I even whistle a little tune after every last straggler has disappeared. 

After I open my locker, I realize quickly that I'm completely out of food. I knew I forgot to do something this morning. I must have been too busy self-imploding.

I dig around in my snack box, finding nothing but empty containers and torn wrappers. There isn't even a measly granola bar wedged beneath any of my textbooks.

I consider my options. I could go eat in the cafeteria...

Ha. 

I could go and eat in Pamela's office. She has quite the impressive stash of food in her closet. Even though I decline every single snack she offers me, I know she'd be more than happy to share now. That's just the kind of person she is. She thinks little things like that make a world's difference to people like me. If I ate lunch with her, she'd take it as evidence for some miraculous breakthrough. 

Sorry, Pamela. I'm not that desperate. Yet. 

I'm about to skip eating completely when I hear this murderous noise cry out from deep within my gut. You win today, belly. I grab a few bucks from my wallet and head to the vending machines. It's time to re-stock anyway. 

The vending machines--one with drinks and one with snacks--are right outside the doors to the cafeteria, so before I get there, I can hear the loud, collective voice of the student body. There's laughter, shouting, and gasps all wrapped up into one, overarching chorus. I imagine all of the cliques assembled at specific tables, whispering about the others while always within earshot. I've never had a designated table, and I can't say that I'm upset to be without one. 

Standing at the vending machine, I can see into half of the cafeteria. I can't help myself, and my eyes wander over to the jock table. Ruben's not there. Now that I think about it, Emily's not in here either. I cringe, thinking about the two of them sneaking off together. Then again, I couldn't care less about Ruben's Mendoza's crumbling love life. 

I load up, snagging bags of chips, some chocolate cupcakes, and M&Ms. Content with my arms full of calories, I head back to my locker, letting the roar of the cafeteria melt into quiet with every step I take. 

I'm nearly to the hallway of lockers when I swing around the last corner a little too quickly. I bump--scratch that. I crash into Ruben, and there is nothing graceful about this little run in. In movies, when a guy and a girl bump into each other, it's a gentle motion resulting in nothing more than a tickled elbow and a sheepish grin or two. This could not be farther from the truth in this instance, proving that life does not, in fact, imitate art. 

We were both moving way too fast for this hallway, so our bodies come together full force, like someone shoved one into the other. His knee rams into my thigh just above my own kneecap, and my snacks get completely smashed between our torsos. His face comes dangerously close to mine. I shrink away from the closeness.

"Whoa," he exclaims, slamming on the brakes as frantically as I am. Ruben's teetering off-balance, and he has no choice but to grab me in an attempt to steady himself. He places his hands on either side of my waist. The hem of my T-shirt does not reach the waist of my jeans, ending just below my bellybutton, and I can feel the rough callouses on his football-accustomed fingers against the soft skin of my stomach. This...this will not do. 

I can't remember the last time I've been touched by one of my classmates. I can't remember the last time I've been touched by anyone that wasn't a nameless stranger I was making out with.

"Don't touch me," I whisper under my breath. If I speak any louder, I'm afraid I'll scream. My eyes are glued to the floor. My snacks have fallen to the ground, the cupcakes irredeemably smushed.  Ruben retracts his hands so fast that I wonder for a second if my skin actually is on fire. It sure feels like it. He takes a wobbly step back, stepping straight onto the chips. They crunch mercilessly under his weight. 

"Dammit. Crap. I'm so sorry, Lane," Ruben blubbers, his voice catching on my name. At least, it sounds like it does. I'm just not sure if that word has ever come from his mouth before. This is when I finally look at him. In his eyes, there is concern, guilt, and even a little embarrassment. He kneels, collecting the carnage littered across the faded tiles. 

"Don't bother," I tell him. 

"Really, Lane, I didn't see you there," Ruben continues. Every time he says my name, it's a blow to my delicate fortress, threatening to break it down. I just want him to stop talking. Stop trying to relate to me. Stop trying to connect with me. I begin to walk away. 

"I can pay you for these," he calls out from behind me. I keep walking. I hear his heavy footsteps fast approaching, and he's alongside me in a matter of seconds.

"Will you just leave me alone?" I ask bluntly, finally getting my locker. I get to work on the combination lock, nearly hitting him with the door when I get it open. 

After dodging the metal door, Ruben scrunches his eyebrows in a puzzled way. 

"But in physics today," he starts, "you--"

"You don't know what you're talking about," I argue, pulling my jacket on and zipping it up. "Nothing happened in physics."

"But--"

"But nothing," I interject, slamming my locker closed. I spin on my heel and start walking. Ruben follows.

"At least take your snacks, Lane."

The only reason I turn around is because there's something so exhilarating about my name coming out of such an unexpected mouth. I take the snacks out of his arms, walk a few steps, and dump all of them into the closest trash can. Ruben is speechless. 

"Don't worry about physics," I say curtly, looking him straight in the eye. "It will never happen again."

I leave Ruben standing in the empty hallway, alone and completely speechless. I jam my hands into my jacket pockets and push my way into the parking lot. I'm out of here.