As Logan stepped into the lunchroom, he quickly made a mental note of three relatively serene potential seats then took his place in the back of the line. Why did school lunch have to seem like a chore?
“What’s up, Logan.”
“What’s up.”
“You stayin’ after today?”
“Yup.”
“Yeah, me too. Fuckin’ see you there.”
Logan peered forward, partly to see why the line wasn’t moving and partly to avoid eye contact with anybody else who wanted to start a pointless conversation. After grabbing a white bag lunch and a milk, he headed to the corner.
He opened the milk first and took a sip, then opened the ham and american cheese sandwich and bit into it. After lunch he would go to American History, then Algebra then Gym, then detention, then home where his mom would cook him mac and cheese and ask him how his day was. Then tomorrow he would do it again.
“Hey Logan, what’s that, man, the ham and cheese?” It was Charlie and Logan didn’t really know how to respond to Charlie. “Yeah well, what are you gonna do, right? Say, do you have last week’s Pre-Algebra test?”
“Not on me.”
“But you have it?”
“Yeah sure. If you stop by my locker after school…”
“Ooh, but I need it for sixth period, buddy. I can pay extra.”
“Not necessary. I’ll just meet you after fifth.”
“Hey, thanks man. You know… we’d be honored if you would join us at our table.”
“Nah, I’ve got to study for a test.” Logan lamely took a notebook from his bag to hold up as proof. Charlie nodded.
“Well, offer stands. Thanks again, Logan.”
Logan decided to open up his notebook and pretend to study so that Charlie wouldn’t be insulted. He shouldn’t be insulted, but people get insulted sometimes even when they shouldn’t.
Logan wrote: “Most times when I watch a movie it’s pretty hard for me not to imagine the person who wrote it. Sometimes it’s impossible not to, like if the movie is about a foreigner adjusting to Japanese life and the writer clearly just wants to brag about his time in Japan, but also be able to change stuff around. Like he’s a baseball player or he becomes a samurai or he has lots of sex with lots of hot, but shy Japanese women. Other times, it’s a little bit more difficult to tell what the writer intended. Like sometimes they’ll make themselves the loser who can’t get a date, the tragic hero, but put themselves in the background, have them observing the hot main characters who make out and save the school. But there’ll always be that one little hint that gives it away, like one line about how the loser is working on a novel or worse, a screenplay.”
Logan stopped to look around. Sweat was forming on the sides of his eyebrows. Charlie wasn’t watching, no one was watching, but he decided to continue on anyway. Might as well finish the thought.
“It makes me a little sad when I can figure out where the writer is. Like, are we all that predictable?”
He tapped his pen against his earlobe.
“It’s so hard not to let things just happen TO me. I feel like maybe I should be resisting more. But then when I do resist, it just ends seeming worse than it would have been if I hadn’t intervened.”
Took a sip of milk.
“Like just going along with everything usually ends up better than the alternative. ”
A bite of sandwich.
“But that can’t be true, can it?”
He put down his pen and surveyed the lunchroom. The sound of voices melded together into fuzz, growing louder and softer in irregular waves. But it did sound like waves, now didn’t it?
The bell rang and Logan picked up his bag and headed to American History.
