Chapter Three

According to scientists, mainly nutritionists, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. In high school, it is the most skipped meal of the day. High schoolers also have that 'stupidity' third-grade-reading-level stereotype sometimes. I think this is where one would make an inference.

Yet, as 'stupid' as we may be, we know well enough that we make up for the lack of food during lunch.

Even though our school has three separate lunches, they are still as crowded as downtown on the weekend nights, especially my lunch, the first lunch. Kids who have this lunch, and even the ones who don't, come as soon as they can to get the best food before it is gobbled up and hoarded away by the rest of the high school jungle animal community.

The nerds are smart. They pack their own lunches.

I guess that means I'm not a nerd...or smart.

I first walk over to my table where Sam Michaels has already beaten me. I guess it would be stereotypical that a boy would beat me to a place in school where the subject is food. I sit down next to Vicky Montall, my childhood friend. The difference between me and her is immediately apparant as I set down my backpack as she digs through her purse to find her mirror to check if her makeup is perfect. I wonder how long it would take for her to realize I was next to her if I didn't say anything. Maybe I could calculate the odds. No, I'm not a nerd, remember?

I look back at Sam who is now accompanied by Mike Bentham, his best friend I would say. I had no idea who's Sam's best guy friend was. I don't really feel like observing that though.

"I'm getting lunch." I don't really know who I announce that to. Maybe myself? It didn't seem like anyone was else around me was paying attention.

Nevertheless, I proceed to the mass of students shoving each other to grab a slice of pizza or snatch two cheeseburgers because we all know one won't fill up the average American teenager. Unless you're a girl, which most likely means you're trying some new diet you found on the internet or Seventeen magazine.

I toast a bagel and purchase a bottle of water from the vending machine. I made sure it was the working one, not the one that justs eats your money while your beverage gets stuck somehow. Only the clueless freshmen tries to buy their drinks there, because they see that there's virtually no line compared to the one next to it, not thinking logically at all.

Back at my table, I see that more kids have gathered. Lisa Worelle, Alyssa Barnes, Daniel Richards, Logan Verani, Keisha Dolan, and Alex Schnieder have all situated themselves around each other to provide optimal communication ability with the right people. I sit between Alyssa and Vicky, across from Sam.

As soon as I sat down Sam throws his hands into the air. "They won't believe me!"

"About what?" I ask, tearing off a piece of my food.

"Dude, where's the cream cheese or butter?" Alyssa asks looking at my dark brown cinnamon raisin bagel.

"In the cafeteria..." I reply, thinking she wanted some.

"Why not on your bagel?"

I pause, remembering that I had forgotten to grab some on the way out of the cafeteria. Not wanting to look like an idiot, I make up an excuse. "I don't really trust what they put in that stuff."

"They buy it from Kraft," Mike answers.

"Yeah, but how long have they kept it in there?" I retort quickly. Maybe I am smart.

"True, true," he replies and leaves it at that.

Sam, frustrated at being ignored, restarts his conversation. "Tell them about Kevin," he demands.

"About him? He got kicked out, well, dragged out," I explain, with a mouthful of bread in my mouth.

"Why?"

"When?"

"Are you serious?"

"What did he do?"

"People relax!" Alyssa yells at everyone who had decided to jump in on the gossip. I still was chewing my food. "Let her eat, god..."

I hold up a hand to signal for everyone to wait a few minutes and swallow, followed by a gulp of water.

Vicky is now paying attention to something other than her face. "Who took him out?" she wonders aloud.

"The VP," Sam answers.

Mike looks up and swears. We all look at him in confusion.

"Speak of the devil," is all he mutters and we turn to none other than the VP himself followed by none other than Kevin Getis. As if on cue, they walk right up to a table by the window, filled with obnoxious athletic senior boys. Due to the other noise in the caf, we can't hear much, but we can deffinately observe body actions. Finger-pointing is followed by arm flailing while mouths open huge to argue. Slowly the other noise dies down and we begin to listen in on the incident.

"So he's telling me one thing, and you're telling me another!" VP yells, pointing first at Kevin, then at one of the jocks.

"I don't even know what you're talking about," the jock yells back. "I didn't do anything wrong."

Kevin then speaks up, with a voice that did not sound like it belonged to him. "You know exactly what the fuck's goin on! Why the hell are you lying for?"

"Shut up, Getis," another jock commands.

"Fuck no!" Kevin begins to move towards the jocks. Even though he's just as tall and wide as them, I doubt that he could match their physical strength.

Two jocks and Kevin come closer and closer to each other, and soon they're pushing. Pushing is followed by a punch and all hell brakes loose with the rest of the enraged athletes as they scramble to attack Kevin.

Screams from cheerleaders and girlfriends slice through the air like a siren, letting everyone know there's a fight. Less obnoxious kids begin to chant "Fight! Fight! Fight!" and the first lunch crowd rushes over to see the spectacle while VP yells frantically into his walkie-talkie for backup. Some try to break it up, but it is impossible. In the rush of the stampede my bagel is knocked to the ground and my water bottle shoved out of my hands, spilling water all over the floor and some gets on the lower legs of my jeans. Keisha pushes me to get out of the way, before I get run over and the few sane of us sneak through bodies into the hallway to escape the chaos.

Information gathered: A massive fight breaks out between Kevin Getis and senior-year athletes, causing insanity and the loss of my lunch.
Information inferred: I should have eaten breakfast.