Playing with Forever

Chapter 2: The Loner Table

The next week, I found myself in a similar situation as my first day of school: I stood at the edge of the cafeteria, looking for a seat. It was storming again so the entire student body was indoors in the cafeteria. I would have sat with Mina, Dylan, and their friends like I had been the week prior, but a neighboring town's academic club was visiting and there simply wasn't a seat to be had. Since we lived in a sunny area of California, our cafeteria wasn't used often. 

Usually, students spread out around campus for lunch and breaks instead of being stuck indoors in a smelly cafeteria. It was only when it rained that we were forced indoors. The cafeteria obviously wasn't planned with any overflow, so with the visiting students, we were over capacity on that particular rainy day.

So once again, I stood awkwardly, scanning for a seat, this time with no regards to who it was with.

I finally found one at the loner table, the one full of kids with their heads in books and earphones in. I started to make my way over to the seat, but hesitated when I saw who it was with.

Sam Durand was an enigma. He was a loner, but he was one of the hottest guys at school. I saw girls watching him with moon eyes from afar, but no one ever approached him. He was on the tall side but not grotesquely so, and strong without being beefy. He wore a jacket that day because of the rain, but I'd seen him is short sleeves. His arms were muscled but not the size of Christmas hams. He was well proportioned. In addition, he had thick, silky looking, warm brown hair with just the slightest wave. His face was just so... symmetrical, and there was so few flaws. A scar on his bottom lip just brought attention to how pretty his mouth was, framing white teeth with one twisted eyetooth.

He looked and dressed well, always with new looking sneakers. I didn't know much about fashion or shoes, but he seemed in style. He seemed totally normal in fact—cool, even—yet everyone left him alone.

He wasn't socially awkward from what I could tell. Neither was he a brooding type of loner, or a bad boy—he was more of a pull-up-a-seat-and-get-lost-in-a-novel type. At least, that's what I thought. I'd never heard him say a mean word. In fact, I'd never heard him say anything. Despite sitting next to him in three classes—yes, three—he had yet to say a single word to me. He sat in the back of all the classes in typical loner style, next to whatever empty seats there were. When I came in a four weeks late, I was always assigned one of those seats in the back, next to him. Voila. Seat mates.

I couldn't help the little butterflies that set off in my stomach whenever I saw him. They were weak butterflies, but still. I wasn't used to it and didn't know what to do with them. I was way too emotionally messed up to have a crush.

Still, I wished he'd talk. Maybe if I was assertive I could get him to speak. I hadn't actually tried to have a conversation with him yet, but I should. Besides, it beat going to the library to eat my lunch alone.

Decision made, I made my way over to the loner table and Sam stared at me as I pulled out the chair and plopped down, pulling a generic brand lemon-lime soda out of my bag.

"What do you think you are doing?" he asked, after some fifteen hours of sitting together. I was shocked to find out he had a bit of an accent. Was that French? His words were a tad lazy, a little rounded and formed in the roof of his mouth. Yeah, definitely, slightly French.

"Um," I said, trying not to show how intimidated I felt by his stare. It was the first time I'd seen his eyes, and oh boy, were they pretty. Warm brown glazed in honey, and staring at me in distrust. "Sitting."

"No one sits here but me."

"Look," I said. "It's super crowded today, and there isn't anywhere to sit. I think you'll survive sitting next to me for one lunch period."