CHAPTER 3/

The next period was Maths, and by then, my hands were unclenched and every single of my sweat had evaporated.

It was like no one even knew I was here, and oddly, I sort of like it. I didn't have to receive smiles that instinctively told you that YOU had to smile back, or receive people with their eyebrows shot up when you answer a question.

In another way, it was like everyone knew me, and they didn't ask my introductions. I don't even know if that's a good sign.

As Mr. Heldon - our maths teacher who was half bald with burly white hair and glasses that were centuries old - was writing on the board, Mary silently crept and sat beside me.

"Heya, dude." she greeted me, with her straight teeth and her eyes scrunching. "How you doing? This is awesome, right?"

"Uhm, hey." I smiled back, and instantly dropped my pencil that was writing everything Mr. C was writing, and answered her pretty casually, "Awesome. Mmm, not really. What's awesome?"

Mr. C swiveled around and scanned the whole class, "Who is talking?" he demanded.

My head snapped back to the front and looked at him in the eyes before Mary Becka came to my rescue. "I think, it was just you, Mr.C."

Mr. C's eyes bolted at Mary and softened, "Since you're new, I'll let you off the hook."

"Oh and my name is Beyonce." she suggested before Mr. C returns to his super boring teaching style.

He nods slightly.

"Why'd you say that?" I whispered, afraid that he might hear us again.

"Because, it's fun? Who doesn't wanna be Beyonce?"

*

"Where's your locker at?" I asked as my nose twitched around to smell something aromatic. Smelled like...Chicken Chop with Rosemary herb sprinkled all over it.

We got to the huge canteen with colorful rounded tables, and on the far corner was one long bench that could fit almost one quarter of the students in this school.

A few girls clad in cheerleader outfits were sitting there, their legs folded and chatting like they just saw Brad Pitt wife-less.

"IDK where your one is, but mine's pretty close to this girl named Jennifer Dane."

"You mean, 710?" I smiled at her. I actually got used to calling her Becks, even though we just became friends about, half an hour ago. When we talked, it was like, we were supposed to be here.

And while our ears were closed when Mr. C was teaching, we realized we had shared almost every single interest together. I like cheese, she likes cheese. I like the band No Doubt, she practically lives for it. I play the guitar, she couldn't stand not playing it. I like soccer yet I don't know how to, and she has the same problem with netball.

But she doesn't like American Idol.

"You evil genius. How'd you know?" she winks back. "WAIT."

"What?" We stopped in our tracks as she looked past my shoulder, so I turned around to see what was there. It was just a short guy with a computer on his lap, doing some chanting.

"You're 708?" she asked now, her trance over. "YOU'RE 708!!" She jumps up and down and her brown hair did the same.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"EEEEYEAH. Can we just eat now?"

"WAIT."

"WHAT?!"

"I bet it will be chicken chop with Rosemary. Wanna bet?"

I walked faster to an empty table and dropped my things: my bottle of water and a granola bar. "No, not really. I already knew it was that."

"No way!"She gushes. "What do you got? The same brain?"

Pfft, I wish.

As we stood in line for our meal, this guy who was about one inch taller than me, with rosy cheeks and mohawk hair, settled on one of the seats on Becks and my table. Didn't he know it was not vacant. I mean, I had put on a granola bar on the table.

"Becks, someone's on our table." I nudged her as the canteenwoman was dropping a glub of brown blop on her plate as her eyes widened at the horrifying scene. "You know, I thought it was chicken chop. Not chicken chop that was minched sooo fine until it revolved to a glob of brown slime."

"I said, someone's on our table."

Her head slidely moves towards the direction as her eyes slightly glides away from that view and when she landed on Guy Rude, she shrugged. "So? We have like, 7 seats, dude. The two of us, makes only two."

I think I knew that.

"But - ah nevermind, I think I'm just being paranoid." I suggested casually and my eyes still watching him, Becks returned to her Adventure Gone Bad.

Guy Rude slowly looked around with his dark black eyes and his mouth slightly moved as he captured the image of my granola bar, perched lightly on that table. His muscular hand slowly reaches for Granola, and slowly he slides it towards him and brings Granola in front of his face.

My legs shuffled in front as the Canteenwoman blops some stuff onto my plate, but my eyes were still on him. He continues to stare at it, and his hand automatically tears off the wrapper with great violence, and his teeth - oh my gosh, his TEETH - sinks into it and bites it off like a lion scrapping flesh out of its prey.

Conclusion: HE ATE MY GRANOLA.

"OMYGOSH!" I screamed, "YOU FREAK!" I dropped the tray with my plate filled with stupid crap and marched towards that guy. He didn't know I was after him, but he looked at me when he heard my shriek. As I neared him, his eyes got bigger, like he actually started noticing he was my prey.

His legs were shaking, and that piece of Granola was on the tip of his mouth, and he was backing away with his chair from me. I could hear Becks in the background saying, "Nooooo..." in a manly voice.

OH YES, HE ATE MY GRANOLA, HE IS GONNA PAY.

Finally, Guy Rude drops my Granola on the floor and stopped everything he was doing. I think he was dead or something.

But whatever, I was still charging. I reached him, and my fists were about to grab his collar when he said, "NO, PLEASE, NOT MY FACE!"

I stopped and gave him a blank expression. Reaching towards him, I flicked the piece of Granola on his mouth and he stared at me with fear. "You, Mr. PLEASE-NOT-MY-FACE, are gonna pay for eating my Granola."

"Y-Y-Your Granola?"

I picked it up swiftly and threw it onto the table, when it glided a little before flawlessly stopping in the middle of the table. "Mhhm, My Granola."

He begins to smile and his face showed the, Ohhh-I-Geddit,You're-Trying-to-Scare-me kind of look.

He stood up, shook the crumbs off his jeans and his fear begins to melt. "Dude, you scared me there. Hahaha. The name's Tom. Status: Your buddy. Good acting,btw."

He thinks I'm kidding. Anyhow, I reached for his hand and shook it numbly. He thinks I'm kidding.

Mary Becka ran towards us and stared at me with spears in her eyes. "What the."

I guess I made a pretty big commotion because everyone in the canteen froze - literally - and continued staring at me and Tom. I think, everyone got a little freaked out.

"Uhm." Tom cleared his throat. "Drama class."

Everyone hesitated before returning to their endless chat. Tom winked at me and I muttered thanks. I was so embarrassed.

"You know," he whispers in my ear as I sat down, "There isn't a drama class in Zelcosh, so if anyone asks you, just tell em' I'm your homeboy back home."

I nodded weakly.

I did not get anything he had just said.

He bid goodbye before telling me he'll see me soon that noon and will be showing me around the school. I nodded again and when he was out of sight, I turned to Mary. She was peacefully chewing her glob, with her eyes closed, and her nostrils flaring.

"Becks?"

"Hmm?"

"What did Tom just say? Homeboy?"

Her eyes open a little and she smiled at me. "He's cute. Oh, and he said that if anyone asked you what drama class, just tell them you know Tom from back home and you two go to a drama class together."

"Aaaaah."

"AND I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU CHARGED HIM FOR A GRANOLA! YOU'RE SO INSANE! YOU SHOULD'VE JUST LET IT GO, YOU SH-"

Yeah, I know, I got a little carried away. I'm just, tense. But it won't happen again. Besides, he thinks I'm kidding.

And everyone else in the canteen thinks it was drama lesson.

I mean, Tom didn't know, right?

Because if he did, I'd be the biggest freak ever.

The Girl That Freaks Over A Granola.

But wait, there's a loophole!

Can I ask anybody, just ANYBODY, is it wrong to act this way when someone you do not know - repeat! DO NOT KNOW. -eats your granola that you treasure so much. And he doesn't ask.

I think not, and I'm held not guilty.

I walked to the canteen lady who wasn't finished with her freaked-out session, and asked for another plate of meal. She hurriedly gave it to me, making sure every blob of slime was placed correctly for fear I would have exploded like before, and passed it to me. I smiled at her reassuringly that I will NOT do that again, but her eyes quickly tear away from mine.

Man, I feel like the Incredible She-Hulk.

I sat back down, while Becks randomly said that the slime wasn't bad, and the rosemary could be tested in every slurp - not bite - and that she was happy.

"You interested in dancing?" she asked then, when my meal was almost finished by me. I nodded while I scooped another mash potato.

"Yeah? Cool. There's a dance club here, I heard. I'm not joining, though. I'll be in the Cheerleader's. But anyhow, you should check it out."

She smiled as she pulled her chair away from the table, grabbed her plate and put it away.

Yeah, I'll check it out.