The Geek Revolution ✓

04 | mathematician

One of the guys at the table sits tall in his chair, watching Terrence and me. The way this table is positioned makes it seem like his head is rising into the painted crown on the back wall. He certainly looks like a Homecoming King, in his Letterman jacket and easy-going smile.

The fifth person at the table is a boy, dark hair, frowning in a faded, cracked leather jacket, and almost comatose with boredom. He's slouched so low in his chair he might slide under the table any moment. If I'm honest, I feel his lethargy. I'm still tired from waking up early to catch the bus.

But like the rest of his friends bar Terrence, he doesn't seem particularly welcoming. Murmuring apologetically, I tell Terrence, "Sorry, I think I'll just look for another seat."

My words seem to fall out of my mouth, and onto the surrounding tables, dampening the chatter. The girl — she is still looking for a chair — overhears, and makes it quite obvious she did. I hadn't even noticed the people paying attention.

I wish I wasn't drawing all this attention, for literally the tiniest developments. Sorry that I sat in the wrong seat. Sorry that I would like to consume sustenance in peace. How dare I?

Madison and Letterman are staring, loose jaws and speculating eyes — though my actions are not theirs to speculate about. Even the boy who was bored with the world sits upright, cautious for what'll happen next.

Most unnerving of all, the black-haired girl laughs humourlessly and unleashes brutal glares in my direction like I had killed her family. She can't honestly be this affected by my rejection, if saying no to a lunchroom seat even counts. Can she?

I'm confused, and understandably so. I've never seen her before in my life! They all reek of toxicity. Best to just back away slowly from the feral girl, and avoid eye contact, in my previous arms-length experience with high school overlords.

My steps away from the table stop short when I remember the most important detail.

When Terrence's odious friends see me coming back, the entire air of the table and the tables around us relax, like a fishbowl tipped to the side returning to its usual position; balance being restored. The frightening girl infuriates me, especially with that complacent smirk she's greeting me with.

I'm not going to join their group. I'm just simply righting a wrong. She can put away her ego, before I destroy it.

I snatch up the plastic chair in one hand, balancing my lunch tray with the other. Marching away from their table, return it to the girl Terrence took it from. She looks at me with fright and suspicion, but I just give her a smile before leaving.

As I sway past their pristine table, Terrence peers quizzically at me. I interrupt him hurriedly, before he can open his mouth and complicate things more, "Thanks for the offer, though."

Some people are still looking; at what, I'm not sure. It's uncomfortable, being the only one standing and watching them look up at me, because it makes it all the more obvious they are staring.

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I'd rather eat alone by the rubbish bins than put another person out of their seat.

Unfortunately, that's what I'm forced to do when the dearth of empty chairs becomes apparent. This table is nearly empty, and unlike the inexplicable vacancies at Terrence's table, I know why. A slight waft from the rubbish bins lingers here, and I imagine the stink curling itself into my already repulsive food.

Is Terrence really that important, that his presence demands everyone's attention? And am I really that unimportant, that no-one notices me when I'm not near him?