Whispers [complete and non-edited]

Chapter 8: Laehal's POV

Two words: Lunch. Time.

I was caught grinning as I took my tray over to an empty table. This particular table was usually barren, aside from me, who took to ignoring the snide comments of 'I wonder which imaginary friend Little Pony's bringing with him this time' and 'oh look, Little Pony is alone. Yet again. Maybe...nah, he deserves to be alone.'

I was used to those insulting comments. I've heard them so often, you'd think they were as common as Vally-Girls saying 'like' and 'totally.'

Example,

Vally-Girl/Cheerleader: OMG, like, look at that guy! He's, like, so totally hot! *twirls hair and stares blindly after the football player*

You get my point, correct?

I rolled my eyes. Why didn't they pick on people their own size? Oh, right. Because the small people can't challenge them. Now, tell me, how does that make them feel more manly? *cough cough* weak *cough cough* Ahem. Anyway.

I stared numbly at my potato soup. Nah, it's cafeteria food. It can't actually be potato soup. At least the spoons aren't broken though...oh wait. Never mind. I sighed as I looked through the hole in my spoon. How creative. They must use these spoons as forks, too. I wouldn't know. They never feed junior highs fork-food.

I heard a snicker as Kyrel walked past my table. Oh, joy. The next thing I knew, I was drinking potat--no, no, it's not potato soup. Lets try this again. The next thing I knew, I was drinking some sort of substance that the lunch-lady called "Potato Soup." There. That's better.

"Look, Little Pony's got butter fingers." Kyrel's evil minions snickered at his lame joke. Idiots.

I just took to sighing and wiping off the white substance. Too bad I don't have a change of shirts. Oh well, maybe I can be on the skins team this time in Phys. Ed.

I sighed again. Time to begin my plan. I grabbed the pudding cup that had oh so delightfully been made in a factory, and ripped off the lid. I stood up and put on the façade that I was throwing it out. Oh, their sorry minds.

I stopped at the garbage can and turned to the nearest table. Low and behold, who was sitting closest to me? That's wrong. It was Stacy. Perfect, I thought.

And then I dumped my pudding on her head, screaming "FOOD FIGHT!!!" Chaos erupted everywhere. "Potato Soup" was being flung everywhere, and I even saw some of the senior highs joining in with their hamburgers. Lucky ducks. Plan, success.

"STOP THIS INSTANT!" an authoritative voice rang through the cafeteria. And, just as planned, he asked, "Who was the cause of this?"

People looked around, and Stacy got a smug look. "Him," she cooed. "And he got pudding in my hair!"

"Laehal, to the office! Now! Stacy, the school nurse will help everyone get new clothing and such."

Oh, sweet success.