Song for the Chapter :
Pumped up Kicks ~ Foster the People

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The rest of the morning went by uneventfully as I got settled into my classes and thanked the heavens that I crossed neither thick girls or that arrogant, amber-eyed twat from maths.

However, I hadn't made any friends at that point (unless you consider the scrawny freshman who showed me to maths) or met anyone I would consider being friends with, so all-in-all I really might need to consider working on my people skills. The fact that nobody took a shining to the kind, honest, pretty and modest new girl sucked big time and was also the reason why I am so hesitant to go through the double doors in front of me.

Lunch.

Okay, this wouldn't have been such a problem if I was back in England. There, I would simply sit at any table with my small friend group, consisting of three, and we would chat about whatever we wanted, be it the latest gossip flying round the school about the headteacher's newest facelift or Robert Millward's (often referred to as Dodgy Robby) newest 'unique' haircut.

We would laugh together, eat together and basically do everything for each other, except go into the toilet cubicle together because that was off boundaries ever since 'The hamster accident' of 2009.

I involuntarily shudder.

However, I am no longer with the comfort of my close circle of weird, but ever so wonderful, bunch of hooligans I call my friends. Here, the people I had met and had the pleasure of talking to, note the sarcasm, turned out to be, well, not the nicest people in existence, frankly, so you could understand my hesitancy.

I take a deep breath, subconsciously stroking playing with my thumbs, while trying to sum up all my inner badass and swagger.

I think you officially lost your 'swagger' when you said the word swagger.

Shut up.

Nope.

Why?

Because I'm here for life.

Joy.

I shake myself out of my inner turmoil, which I obviously won, and slowly push the double doors back, feeling a sharp wind, until I have a clear view of the hall.

The dining hall, or canteen, consists of many circular, multi-seated tables arranged in no obvious pattern with fluorescent orange seats surrounding them. These were all scattered around on a dull grey floor to which, much dust and dirt had accumulated, no doubt from all the scrubby teenage shoes scraping against the surface. To the left of where I stand lies the food serving place supplying many different meals, not all of them identifiable, hot and cold. There is also, thank goodness, a wide selection of vegetables so that people, like me, who are on a no carbs, no artificial flavourings, low fat, no sugar, little protein, nothing coloured red diet could 'eat'.

SARCASM

A body roughly whacks into my right shoulder causing me to stumble suddenly forward in shock. I whip my head up and glared menacingly into the ocean of people but was quick to realise that I had no clue what that jerk had looked like.

Dammit I was really looking forward to giving someone a piece of my mind.

Realising more and more people are slowly filling up the dining room, and that I was blocking the entrance/exit, I roll my shoulder in a circular motion and head over to the stand, eager to get some food in my gob, and smile warmly at the dinner lady greeting her in a pleasant fashion - you should always be nice to the hand that feeds you because like hell am I going to die of some sort of poisoning food or worse...

No Pudding.

'Good morning...' I squint and mov closer, trying to make out the impossibly small writing on the name tag she is so fashionably sporting.

'Janice' I finish giving her a nod and grabbing one of the mouth watering chicken wraps, a bag of crisps, a bottle of water and a velvety, scrumptious looking, chocolate mousse which looked so heavenly and fluffy that I just want to grab my spoon and dig into the fluffy...

'Hurry up, you're holding up the line!'

I snap out of my food-induced thoughts, a blush creeping up my neck and I pay the lady serving me. I keep my head down, not wanting to see others laugh at my embarrassment and turn around swiftly, my stomach complaining loudly as I think of the chocolatey heaven I'm about to devour.
I'm so distracted by the thought of my chocolate goodness, again, I completely forget where I am until I feel someone roughly barge past me on the way to a table.

Again.

'Excuse you!' Says a high pitched voice which could only belong to the most annoying Barbie to ever come out of the production line.

'Sorry, not enough room for you?' I say in an innocent voice and gesture to the small health bar on her plate.

'Maybe you shouldn't eat that, I mean if you can't even get past me when there was plenty of room  then imagine how squashed we'll all be if you ate all those calories!' I say gesturing to her plate full of lettuce leaves and rabbit food.

'Like I would take advice from you!'

She says, narrowing her eyes at me.

'But here's some advice from me; I have a number to a plastic surgeons down the road that might be able to fix..' She gestures to my face '...that.'

'No thanks..' I say sweetly '..but I think you should go back there and ask for a return because I think they may have messed up your nose job, I mean surely you didn't ask for it to be bigger right?'

I get the reaction I wanted as I see her self consciously reach one hand up to her nose and with that, I swivel on my feet and stride confidently away, making sure my ponytail sashayes sassily behind me. I hear a frustrated sigh behind me and the words 'Cow butt' muttered in my direction before I hear the sound of Louis Vuitton high heels fade into the blur of the lunchtime din.

I chuckle quietly to myself, the words 'cow butt' replaying over and over in my mind. That girl may be the most fake and frankly biggest piece of shit I've met but she certainly is comical at times.

I search the dining hall again, my eyes raking over the stereotypical layout of the school higher-archy  and observe each table, assessing my options. In the centre of the cafeteria sits the table with the best seats, the ones that weren't close enough to the windows to feel the cold but weren't too close to the lunch queue to be disturbed by the ruckus of the dinner ladies. On said table sat only five people, even though there was clearly room for eight or nine, maybe even more. Crouching on one of the traffic cone coloured seats is a boy with short, cropped dark brown hair with light green eyes, dark, thick brows and fair skin. Next to him is a boy of equal likeness, the only visible difference is that this boy has longer, but if equal darkness, brown hair, sticking up in all directions giving it a messy-but-didn't-try-too-hard vibe.

They were laughing and play fighting with each other all the while listening to the boy sat across from them who I recognise as the nosy pain-in-my-ass from maths, chatting animatedly to the two brothers, hands flying widely as re-hashes what looks like a story. Also sat on the table are two girls, one with her back to me, whispering among themselves, clearly oblivious to the most wonderful story full of exciting twist and turns told by the wise omen of all knowledge.

Note the sarcasm.

The girl sat with her back to me turns slightly to look over to the boys, giving me a side profile of her. She has dirty blonde hair which is tied neatly up in a messy bun, glasses perched precariously on top, a button nose and light blue eyes which light up as she laughs at something one of the boys said. The other girl looks like a she could be a model  her dark complexion off setting her deep, ocean blue eyes framed by exquisitely curled lashes and topped with perfectly plucked brows making mine look like a bird's nest. She has thick cornrows in which fall to just above her hip.

I glance away from the table to meet the harsh reality which is the lunch table pecking order. The surrounding tables seem to have no particular stereotype but just seem to be groups of friends varying from two to five people in each group. I let my gaze wonder over the cafeteria, assessing my options before finally my eyes settle on a table pushed up against the corner of the room, right by the window giving the table a view of the various sport fields Linksbrook provides. I head over to the table, which is relatively quiet, only the girl I recognise from maths is sitting there, engrossed in her lunch. I put on my best smile and stride over in her direction before plonking myself opposite her causing her head to snap up at me curiously, giving me a hesitant smile.

'Hey, I was going to ask you if I could sit here but I kind of already have so...' I cheerfully say, not one to beat around the bush, causing her to laugh shyly

'That's alright, nobody sits on this table anyway, just me and my food. That's how I live my life.' She says seriously but her eyes alight with happiness at the prospect of me sitting next to her.

I like her.

'That's the best life to live. If everything was food, the world would be a better place.' I say, matching her serious tone.

'I mean come on, there would be no wars as everyone would shoot jelly beans and the world would be a better place because everyone would just solve their problems by eating and no one would say anything because if they did you could easily eat them and Oh! What if everyone was made of their favorite food, that would be so cool!'

This causes her to erupt with giggles as I stare at her quizzically, waiting for her to explain her momentary humour attack. I'm serious. You do not want to question my love for food.

No kidding.

What's that supposed to mean?

Nothing.

UGHHHH

'What would Miss Sol be, be made out of?' She ponders,a mischievous glint in her deep brown eyes as I pick up my heavenly pudding and began to peel back the lid.

'The lady from reception? The one that is a mix between a weasel and an angry alley cat?'

The chocolate milk she was sipping at, was no longer in her mouth.

But all over my tray.

I start to laugh. Not the cute, elegant giggle that nearly every female seems to possess (except from me) but the deep Shrek roar that only few are lucky to hear which would wourd even the scariest of monsterts away. This makes her laugh even harder as she she starts to full on belly laugh aswell which is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard because her laugh is a load consists of a load of silent laughter and the occasional, but certainly noticeable snorts.

'You...' I say in between intakes of breath '....have...the best... laugh... EVER.'

At this point, many curious gases have fallen upon the snorting hyena and I and to be honest, I don't care because I am laughing the hardest I have in a while, all because of her laugh. She just nods and continues her breathless dying laugh as I chuckle at her antics.

That is until I notice my pudding.

My BLOODY pudding.

It has chocolate milk all over it.

I am going to kill her

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Hey guys!!

I want to dedicate this chapter to giddyforyou and ChaoticNomsa  for helping me out/being active on my story and I hope that you go check out they're stories and writing because it is amazing and I know that you will enjoy them immensely.

I hope you guys like my 4th chapter and comment any suggestions or ships you have for the characters.

Thank you so much for reading, I will hopefully update again soon.

~SJ