Not Gonna be a Food Fight (Truman)
Nov 6, 2014 0:19:57 GMT -5
Post by Ottavio Casagrande on Nov 6, 2014 0:19:57 GMT -5
The cafeteria always made him itch. Not really in a physical way, like he was allergic to something. But more of an inside the skin kind of way. But he’d gotten used to that a long time ago and could almost be used to it. Almost.
Well, he was very good at faking it. Very good. So he put on his smoothest, most confident smile and tugged his shirt straight under the blazer, then proceeded forwards into the cafeteria. He managed to get his food without bumping into anyone much—a feat that took quite a lot ofpractice, actually, and years of coming to this ridiculously crowded and frustrating place—and then stepped back into a relatively empty space to examine the pickings. Not bad. The chef was pretty good. He missed the food at home, but this would do in themeantime. Still, he didn’t know how he felt about the milk. He grimaced at it, then turned and managed to walk directly into another boy standing there. He yanked back instinctively.
“Watch it,” he snapped. Too late. Food wasallover both of them. Great. Herecovered himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
Well, he was very good at faking it. Very good. So he put on his smoothest, most confident smile and tugged his shirt straight under the blazer, then proceeded forwards into the cafeteria. He managed to get his food without bumping into anyone much—a feat that took quite a lot ofpractice, actually, and years of coming to this ridiculously crowded and frustrating place—and then stepped back into a relatively empty space to examine the pickings. Not bad. The chef was pretty good. He missed the food at home, but this would do in themeantime. Still, he didn’t know how he felt about the milk. He grimaced at it, then turned and managed to walk directly into another boy standing there. He yanked back instinctively.
“Watch it,” he snapped. Too late. Food wasallover both of them. Great. Herecovered himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
