𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡， 𝑒𝑙𝑖 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑘𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑡𝑧

one | death wish

My turquoise glare sinks into the deflated burger on the tray.

Could it technically be called a burger? It was more of a thin sheet of cardboard between two loaves of wet bun. A carton of chocolate milk, a bruised banana, and a small cup of lime jello all amounted to a dismal lunch. Am I in prison or school?

My eyes narrow at the woman behind the counter as I pull the tray off the conveyor surrounded by equally disgusting-looking meals. I spin on my heel, knuckles turning white from gripping the lunch tray so hard.

School is just as I remembered. That is; awful. Lousy food, poor teaching staff, and the musty stench of BO and teen angst. Not to mention the stares and jeers that come along with being friends with the 'weird kid'.

My gaze drifts around the cafeteria for any signs of my friends. Aside from the regular nerds and popular people, there was us. Me and the other two members of our trio. Demetri and Eli Moskowitz.

I spot them now, only they're not alone. Some other boy is with them. My gaze fixates on Eli's tense shoulders and his hunched-over posture. I know my best friend well enough to know he isn't comfortable in the new boy's presence by any means. Especially since he's seated right next to him.

My eyes narrow as I march over and slam my tray down. My arms fold over my chest. Demetri and Eli's heads snap up. The latter's face immediately softens as he sees me.

Meanwhile, my gaze is hard, challenging almost as I stare down the extra boy at our table. "Move, loser. You're in my seat."

He blinks at me. Though he at least seems a little taken aback. Compared to Eli and Demetri I'm the boldest of us all.

The boys have known and been friends with each other since kindergarten and I met Eli in fifth grade after saving him from a group of bullies. Ever since then, it's just been the three of us. Our little trio.

Me and the unnamed boy stare at each other for a long while until Demetri clears his throat. "Miguel this is Katarina Jen—"

"Kat." I correct, my tone sharp, gaze never straying from Miguel's face. After a beat, I lean forward. "Again I rephrase; you're in my seat. Now move unless you want your jaw wired shut for the next month and a half."

Miguel quickly jumps into the next seat over, dragging his lunch tray behind him. His eyes flash with an emotion that is undoubtedly fear.

A breath, something a mix of a huff and a scoff escapes my mouth as I toss my book bag on the table and sink into the chair beside Eli. He looks over at me, eyes creasing into the tiniest of tiny smiles. A thank you.

My lips quirk up in response. I grab my lime jello, placing it on his tray instead. Again, that small grin flutters over his lips before he tampers it. I know it's his favorite. Besides, I've given him my jello cup every day since Freshman year. It's a tradition at this point.

Eli Moskowitz, my best friend, is a man of few words. A shy, but smart and withdrawn boy, teased and humiliated on a daily basis because of the scar on his upper lip. Demetri and I try our best, but there's only so much we can do to facilitate the bullying.

I watch him closely. I've always seen Eli as cute with his sweaters and timidness. Imagine a soft puppy. Never someone I would go for, personally, but I'd be wrong if I said he wasn't on the better-looking side.

Speaking of better-looking; my glare shifts when some rosy, vanilla-y perfume infiltrates my nostrils, making me gag. I look up just as a mane of platinum blonde sweeps by me and Yasmine's large purse hits my shoulder and thumps against Miguel's back.