|ROYAL GATE HIGH SCHOOL|

|LUNCH TIME|

MARIANA

I walked into the cafeteria with Vanessa, and the rest of our friends were already seated. We’d come late because our chemistry teacher thought it would be a great idea to take a few extra minutes from lunch for more teaching. Of course, all I could think about during that time was the food I was missing out on.

We went straight to the counter to grab our food before heading to our usual table. It had become our favorite spot to eat, and today was no different. Vanessa and I sat down and dug into our food, barely acknowledging the others at the table. But I could feel their eyes on me, like lasers burning into the back of my head.

“What?” I asked loudly, my words muffled by the food stuffed in my mouth. I knew it probably came out funny, but I didn’t care.

“Slow down with the food, or you’ll choke,” Damien said, his voice filled with concern, and that’s when I realized I might’ve been eating too fast.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, quickly swallowing the food in my mouth. “Guess I was starving.”

“What’s up with you guys? You just came in without even saying hi,” Julia chimed in, glancing between me and Vanessa, her voice dripping with curiosity.

“Oh, sorry about that,” Vanessa replied with a slight shrug. “Nothing major. The chemistry teacher ran over, and we were both starving. That’s all.”

“Oh, okay.” Julia nodded, accepting the explanation, and the rest of the table seemed to do the same as we returned to our meals.

A few minutes passed, and once I was done eating, I grabbed my tray and stood up. I was about to return it when I tripped, my leg tangling with someone else’s. I stumbled and hit my knee hard against the tile floor. A sharp wince escaped me as I fought to catch myself with my hands, but still, my left knee throbbed from the impact. Murmurs started to ripple through the room as I stood up, gritting my teeth against the pain.

“Oops, sorry,” a voice muttered from the other side. But the apology didn’t sound sincere—not even close.

I followed the sound of the voice to the culprit: Tyler. Of course, it had to be him, the absolute jerk.

I shot up, wincing slightly as I felt the ache in my knee intensify. My glare was locked on Tyler, and I didn’t care that everyone around us was watching.

“You put your leg out on purpose because you saw me coming,” I said flatly, my tone a mix of frustration and accusation.

“No, I didn’t. My leg was just there. I didn’t see you,” Tyler replied, his words laced with that familiar arrogance. The smirk on his face said it all—he was lying.

“Spare me the bullshit,” I snapped. “I know you did it on purpose. And now look at my knee.” I pointed to the bruise already starting to form, my voice rising as I glared at him. “You hurt me.”

“You’re accusing me of making you fall?” Tyler sneered. “How do I know you weren’t the one trying to kick my leg in the first place?”

I could feel my anger building like steam in a kettle. “You’re the biggest piece of shit I’ve ever met.” Without thinking, I grabbed the plate of spaghetti in front of him, the one he’d barely touched, and dumped the entire mess of pasta and sauce onto his head.

For a split second, the cafeteria went quiet. Then, a few giggles and gasps broke the silence. Tyler’s face turned beet red, and he just stared at me, his anger building. The spaghetti slid down his hair and dripped onto his uniform, the sauce staining it in big, splattered splotches.

He didn’t move for a moment, his face practically glowing with rage. “You poured food on me,” he said, his voice as cold and clipped as a knife.

“Yep, I did.” I stared back, unflinching. “What’s your next move? Gonna cry about it?”

Tyler stood up, his fists clenched by his sides. I could see him weighing his options. Then, without warning, he grabbed a half-eaten piece of cake from a friend’s plate and tossed it toward me.

I barely had time to react. I ducked just in time, and the piece of cake sailed past me, smacking a random student behind me. “Hey!” she yelled, clearly annoyed, and then—bam!—I felt the splat of cake landing right on my face.

The icing stuck to my skin, and the cake slid down my cheek, making an absolute mess. That was it—the cafeteria turned into chaos in an instant. Food was flying everywhere—spaghetti, cake, salad—people were throwing whatever they could get their hands on.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!” Principal Raymond’s voice thundered, making everyone freeze. I still had a bowl of salad in my hand, poised to throw it at Tyler, but now I was paralyzed with fear at the sound of his booming voice. I glanced around, and everyone else had frozen too, their faces a mix of shock and dread. I casually lowered the bowl and set it down on the table closest to me, trying to look innocent.

“I’m asking again—WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!” he bellowed, his face turning redder by the second. The room was eerily quiet, and no one dared speak.

“Well, it’s obvious you all had a food fight,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “Fine, I’ll ask you again. Who started this... ‘activity?’”

Still, no one said a word, not a single confession. Principal Raymond’s gaze swept over the crowd, his eyes narrowing with irritation. “If no one’s going to speak up, then let me make it clear. Whoever tells me who started this food fight will be spared the punishment. The rest of you, well...” He let the threat hang in the air like a dark cloud.

Finally, a voice broke the silence. A timid voice, soft but clear. “Sir, I’ll tell you who started it.”

I turned to see Stanley, a quiet boy who always kept to himself. He was always getting picked on, but today, it looked like he was standing up for something. Principal Raymond nodded, urging him to continue.

“Go ahead, Stanley,” he said, his tone a little more patient now.

Stanley hesitated, but then spoke up, his voice almost a whisper. “Tyler’s the one who started all of this.”

There it was. Stanley had named him, and as much as I tried to suppress a grin, I couldn’t help but feel a small victory. Tyler’s face twisted with rage as he turned to glare at Stanley.

“You little rat,” Tyler snarled, but Stanley didn’t back down. He just stood there, looking down at his shoes.

Principal Raymond’s eyes widened. He glanced between Tyler and Stanley. “Tyler,” he said in a dangerously calm voice, “You’re the one who started this mess?”

Tyler opened his mouth to argue, but Principal Raymond held up a hand. “Save it. You’re both getting detention, and we’ll talk more after school.”

The tension in the room remained thick, but the food fight was over, for now.