The Coldwater Crisis

2) It's Not Your Place

I cleared my throat, taking a step away from the table. I glanced over at Mrs Adams, who stood in between the two tables clutching a notebook, peering over her glasses at both I and the opposing team.

"Miss Lawrence, congratulations, your team has won." Letting out a long exhale, a smile stretched across my face, as an arm stretched over my shoulder, pulling me closer.

"I knew it, Nat. You even convinced me." Gen cheers, releasing me from her grasp, turning to face me. "Now lunch?" she asks, like an excitable toddler.

"I hope you enjoyed this fun topic, next week we will be resuming the tougher debates. Have a nice week." Mrs Adams states before leaving the room. 'Should Homework be Banned', a debate topic that had been highly requested for a long time, possibly due to the enthusiasm it sparked, the request had been declined for a while, some of the more intense students had called it a 'waste of time'. Although, I think that's because they were scared to face a panel of teenage judges who despised homework. I, however, rose to the challenge and picked against banning homework. I was sure I'd lose, but I didn't, surprisingly.

The lunchroom was teeming with energized highschoolers, we tentatively made our way over to the food bar, teenagers are intense when they are hungry. Each of us takes a tray before discussing the 'Start of Semester Dance', the idea had been coined by Ava, head of the dance committee and every committee for that matter, she had put forward the idea of having a dance straight after returning from winter break. Her reasoning wasn't half-bad though. It was meant to 'build school spirit for the upcoming months'. Of course, the school had said no, but the idea lived on in the form of a house party.

"So are you bringing anyone to the dance?" Gen inquires, gently nudging me as we slide our trays along the countertop.

"Gen, we are together all day, every day and when I am not with you, I am messaging you. If I were bringing anyone to this dance don't you think that I would have told you, or at least, that you would know somehow?" Carrying my tray, I spun around, a group were leaving the table in the corner. "Also, calling this party a 'dance' is a bit extreme, a load of drunk teenagers making out in someone's kitchen doesn't scream high school dance to me."

We take a seat at the table and Gen's eyes narrow at me. "How can you say that. These are the days we are gonna look back on in twenty years and miss."

"Maybe for you Gen, but some of us look forward to the future and can't wait to leave this superficial world." As I say this, I feel a surge of regret. Sometimes I don't think, I try to be the architect of my world, forgetting that other people are in it too.

"Well, I don't have much to look forward to after this, superficial world." Gen mutters, spinning her cellphone in circles on the table.

"No, Gen, of course you do." I lean forward trying to reassure her.

"That didn't sound patronising at all." Gen looks directly into my eyes, her face completely blank as if reading my thoughts.

"I'm sorry, you know sometimes I don't have a filter." Friendship is so complex sometimes, I'm trying to make her feel better, but I am just making her more and more frustrated.

"It's not about what you say, it's about what you think and you really feel that way about me don't you?." She folds her arms, leaning back, with a scowl.

"That's not what I-" She immediately cuts me off, what does she want me to say in a situation like this? She knows that I care about her, now I feel like the villain.

"Save it." She snaps " I don't need somebody else telling me how not wanting to go to college is me burying my head in the sand and being too scared to move on." Gen gestures strongly, before gripping the table in anger.