Chapter 25

• Lunch period had arrived, marking one of the most challenging times of the day for men. Unsure if I would have supper that evening, skipping lunch was simply not an option. The shiny linoleum floors were marred by spills from careless students, and the fluorescent lighting overhead cast a washed-out green hue on everyone's pale faces. It was Tacos Day, easily one of my least favorite days. The air was saturated with the pungent aroma of greasy, low-grade meat combined with artificial shredded cheese. As I stood in line for my daily dose of nausea, I was oddly pleased that, for once, everyone seemed to overlook me, even if I knew that wouldn't last long.
• I grabbed a foam tray from the stack and proceeded through the line, careful not to get too close to the people ahead or behind me. There were alternatives to tacos, such as the ever-present square pizza, fries, fish sticks, and other unappetizing choices, but that didn't matter to me. Unlike the other students, who had the luxury of choosing their preferred slop, the cafeteria staff simply shoved whatever they felt like at me. I had to accept it or go hungry. I glanced at the foam tray. Two grease-stained taco shells lay on the ugly green surface, with slop, slightly brown lettuce, and fake cheese spilling out the sides. I sighed... lovely. Just lovely...
• As I exited the line and stepped into the seating area, my gaze scanned the tables. Andrew and the rest of the football team usually occupied the same spot daily, a territory where they could hold court among the other brainless students, but sometimes they shifted. I needed to sit as far away from them as possible, preferably alone. I sidestepped a bucket that faintly smelled of bleach, floating remnants of spilled milk creating a murky mess, which made me wrinkle my nose. I settled onto the cold, backless black bench at the farthest table from the masses. The gymnasium was nearby, so the blend of sour milk, greasy slop, and bleach mixed with the unpleasant scent of sweat. A few others occupied the table, but there were several seats between us. They glanced at me momentarily before turning their backs, and I welcomed the solitude; it was certainly better than facing ridicule.