Chapter 22: Cafeteria Food

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[Revised] 

As Zara shoved her way through the throng of students in the corridor, she was continuously slapped in the face by backpacks of different colours and sizes. It was annoying. If her life was a cartoon strip, then she would have had several bruises and lumps across her face and head, paired with a toothless grin to reassure her viewers.

Saffron sashayed behind her, grinning and waving at people he knew. It was at times like these that Zara wished that she was a giant—that way she could just stomp her way through anything or anyone that got in her way. And if she thought the corridors were crowded, the cafeteria was worse.

One of the largest rooms in the school, the cafeteria was a place both of wonder and consternation: you wondered how in the world you hadn't died from eating the yellowish slop they called "mashed potatoes", and were appalled at how loud the place was. On one end of the hall, you had a row of cafeteria ladies scooping various shades of gunk onto your plastic tray, in the centre were the plastic tables and benches—overflowing with starving children—and at the other end were the red doors leading to the freedom of the courtyard.

Zara almost gasped when she saw how long the food line was, but in the end, it shouldn't have come as a surprise to her. If you made the foolish mistake of arriving about 0.2 seconds later than the rest of students, you could expect to still find yourself in line after celebrating your 100th birthday. Not only that but the teachers were also allowed to cut the line, basking in the temporary glow of power that they had over their students.

After resigning herself to her doomed fate, Zara looked over the daily menu on the wall to kill time.

Gross. Disgusting. Pretty sure the meat is synthetic. Nope. 

Last on the list was "chocolate lava cake". Yes. The chocolate-lover inside of her purred with glee.

Zara turned to inform Saffron of the groundbreaking discovery, but to her surprise, he was nowhere to be found. She instead made awkward eye-contact with a freshman and immediately swivelled back to face the front, irked that her friend hadn't informed her of his departure. She took one step forwards, then another, the line moving excruciatingly slowly, like a snail on antidepressants.

Finally, twenty minutes into lunch, Zara reached the tray rack, grabbing the one that looked the least crusty and held it in front of her. All she really wanted was the cake and was just as happy to have it dropped into her mouth before she could be on her way. But the school rules dictated that you could only be served if you had a tray.

Stupid school.

"Beef or chicken?" A gruff voice asked, a dirty ladle halfway into a heap of gravy.

"Nothing, thank you." Zara replied politely, and the woman's dead eyes were immediately off her and onto the person behind her.

This process continued until she reached the last lady, who eyed her empty tray with an eyebrow raised.

"Chocolate lava cake, please."

She grabbed a plastic spoon and a carton of milk on her way towards the seating area, her eyes darting back and forth as she searched for her friends. The four of them usually sat at the same table every lunch and recess, so it was surprising when Zara saw a different group of teenagers sitting in their place.

"Zara! Over here!" A voice called out, and her head snapped towards the sound. Aurora was waving at her from a couple of tables away from where she stood.

"—I'm going to strangle that douchebag," Saffron's angry words became clearer as she approached the table and slipped beside Aurora.

"Hey. What's up?" Zara asked, more out of habit than curiosity. She took her bag off her shoulders and placed it on the bench beside her, then unzipped it to take out her lunch.

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