Swing Baby, Swing

1} The Beginning

1} The Beginning

Anna Lynn 

A thin line that dives into a darkly shaded dip swirling in a curve before finally ending at the edge of the paper, right where my pencil stopped. The picture in front of me was nothing more than another random doodle that my wandering brain had told my hand to draw. It wasn't necessarily bad but it's not like it would be hung in an art museum any time soon. 

"Al, don't you think so?" I was pulled from my daze as Bronwyn called me. 

"Sorry what?" I blinked with a sheepish smile. Her smug stare glowered over me and I visibly sunk back into my chair as her eyes gave me their typical disapproval. 

Can she blame me though? All that she ever talked about were the boys she was going on dates with or a new magazine that she got which had clothes that were to die for. I'm a casual, laid back chick who would rather talk about a new skateboard line or my favorite TV show that wasn't a chick flick. This all being pieced together, no you actually can't blame me for zoning out.

"-Right?" Again I stared blankly. Her brown eyes narrowed at me as she huffed then turned away, jabbing her fork into her lasagna and shoveling it into her mouth. Suppose I should start making note to pay attention for whatever it was worth. She is my best friend after all but she should know by now that I'm not into all the same things she is.

"Why do you eat that?" I piped up, making a face at the food (if you could call it that) on her tray.

"Because I'm hungry and it's free," She shrugged, taking another bite. I've had my fair share of school lunches and from personal experience I knew to stay away from the lasagna like it was the plague. Bronwyn though? Human trash can.

I don't understand how a person so girly such as her can have the mannerisms of a wild bear that just found a garbage disposal. Seriously, she is beyond comprehension and completely a mystery to any living being on this planet.

"Well it's nasty and probably weeks old. Free or not, you should never take the lasagna," My head shook as I looked up from her food to meet that same glare. Apparently it's her I-can-be-a-bitch-if-I-feel-like-it day which means this girl needs to chill with the attitude. Not likely though, it never is.

"Children in Africa could be starving right now as we just throw our food away. Respect what you're given and don't be so picky because it could be a lot worse," Her nose tilted up as if I was inferior. This time it was my turn to glare at her and surprisingly she only rolled her eyes and carried on.

With the need to not be so close to the pile of disgust on her plate I lent back in my chair and did a scan around the lunch room. It was a typical kind of lunch set up, not by cliques like the jocks and such but more a mixture all around. Since Bronwyn and I had high standards in friends (actually we're not fond of people in general) we sit by ourselves at a corner table where it's quieter. It's still really fricking loud but tolerable to the point I don't have to yell just to ask about her day.

In my mindless roaming of eyes I caught ahold of a short haired, brown eyed hunk of hotness as he crossed the room and sat with a small group of people. He didn't talk much, only spoke a few times or laughed at whatever was being said just to seem ordinary. His eyes stayed trained on his food, sometimes glancing around but never connecting with anything or anybody in particular.