Classes fly by in a blur. CSE, computer science and engineering, (yes, our school is full of acronyms,) is first period. It's incredibly hard for me to concentrate and think about what's going on, but at least computers provide a distraction that grabs my attention. We're focusing on complex photoshop, and though we haven't gotten to the big project of this unit yet, I know it's coming soon. We've been working on photoshop since early October, and it's mid November now. Mr. Kalabading still hasn't announced the big project. But he likes surprises.

Next period. Woodshop. I like this class. I was surprised to find that I had a talent for woodworking last year, and am excited to get going on our current project, building dollhouses. It's fun, but the windows are hard to carve out. Maybe I'm good at Woodshop, but as of right now, my house looks like a rotting, abandoned prison made of wood.

English is next, and I have to stifle a groan as I look up at the long stairs leading me from the very bottom floor all the way to the third. I cast a desperate glance at the elevator, and wish hard that I could use it, but of course, there is that stupid sign saying Please don't use the elevator without special permission from a teacher. Thank you! And it's accompanied by the same bright, round, yellow face with blue cross-eyes, puffed cheeks the color of a clown's nose, and a wide toothed grin that never fails to creep everyone out. Miserably, I climb the stairs, my binder heavy in my arms, and by the time I reach the third floor, I am huffing and puffing. Mrs. MacMolla gives me a stern look, but I ignore it, sliding into my desk and pulling out the assigned reading, some speech that some guy no one's ever heard of gave during 1831! It's impossible to keep focused, though, with my length of attention span and ability to sit still. If that weren't enough, this guy also uses words like insular and curmudgeon and thine. Ugh! My fingers tap on the desk anxiously as my eyes glaze over, trying desperately to ignore the urge to stare at the clock until the bell strikes 10:00. Finally, it does, with an ear splitting, staticky ringing that shoots me out of my chair like a rocket and into Art class, right down the hall.

After designing fans in Art, we are all scared to death by Mr. Hawara in History, before finally, finally, heading to lunch. I snatch my horrid flip phone from my locker so that I can call Kaitlyn later, grab my lunch bag that contains what I packed last night, and am about to head outside to eat while moving(I'm not sure why, I love eating while moving around, it makes me feel just plain old great,) before I remember Rosa's note. We need to talk? About what?

Nervously, I head down to the cafeteria, and take in a breath as the oddness of the room strikes me. As I said, I usually eat lunch outside, and watch the students inside chow on the cafeteria food and talk, the sound of their voices making my ears ache with volume even with thick walls of concrete between us. This room is making me uncomfortable.

The walls are green as the fake, perfect grass that sits up, rigid, from our neighbor's yard, and slanted inwards, so that it looks almost as they are abstract. The tables are round, each with four cushioned red stools surrounding them. The floor, tiled black and yellow, is nearly invisible under a blanket of food scraps. And the noise-it's like, the cafeteria motto is "Why talk when you can scream?" Oh my God. Why, people, why? It's just plain old dumb. 

"Brooke!" Shouts a voice from across the room. I look up, and see Rosa's hand waving me over. I'd like to say that as soon as people heard her shout my name, they parted like the Red Sea, that I was worshipped as she is. Believe me, I've heard it in every middle school drama, practically ever, but in real life, no one cares that much. A couple of people glanced over, but practically no one noticed. So I kept my head down, my shoulders hunched, trying to ignore the terrible walls that make the cafeteria seem to squeeze in with every second. Finally, I plop down across from Rosa, with Ivory, a tall girl who dyed her curly blonde hair into a sequence of colors, from Mrs. MacMolla's homeroom sitting on my right. She gives a small smile and waves her fingers in a greeting. I nod, not sure of what to say.

"So...." Rosa shifts awkwardly. Even she is unsure of herself. Finally, her face breaks into a smile. "How's life, Brooke?" How's life? How is life? Well, really, it's terrible. People are spreading rumors about me, I'm failing math and being forced to take up tutoring and give up running, and I'm dying in this suffocating cafeteria, trying to ignore the sickly green, abstract walls that look so much like they're closing in, sucking out every bit of air I want to inhale and trapping me forever in this terribly noisy place. I hate it. But I just shrug and say, "Fine. How's yours?"

Rosa's smile grows into a beam, and she launches into a full, detailed story about every moment of her perfect day, but I'm not really paying attention. My mind is everywhere but on Rosa's. I think about tutoring, the Milky Raptors, eating my cheesy egg and sausage sandwich, the events Geremy caused in homeroom, but mostly, the walls. Why are they so terrible? I had almost forgotten why I never sit in the cafeteria. Even the library isn't this stifling. It's the walls, obviously, but it's also the noise, and the huge amount of people in here. Is all of LSMSEA packed in here? It looks like it. I want to scream!

Rosa's voice snaps me out of my trance as she says, "And what about you, Ivory? How was your day?" Ivory shrugs casually, and keeps eating her potato salad. "Fine," She informs me and Rosa, and I smile behind the cover of my sandwich. It's a bit surprising. Ivory is the type of girl who dyes her hair rainbow, who can pull off a sparkly black Minnie Mouse shirt and sneakers with random letters splatted in rainbow all across the sides, but not the type of girl who talks about her day and purposefully grabs attention to herself. I guess she just does what she does, not really thinking. I like that.

"Hey, Rosa, what did you want to talk about?" I blurt out, and quickly regret it as her brown eyes lock onto mine, and stare at me with such a startled look I feel embarrassed. Her thin, curvy eyebrow climbs up her forehead, and her smile is barely containing an obvious laugh. My gaze drops to the ground, yet again. It's not like I can look at Rosa, or Ivory.

"Oh, right. Well, I wanted to ask you about the presentation. Y'know, the one in Community Service. I saw yours, on the...what was it called? The something zoo?" Rosa asks, and I look up, my eyebrows sky-high this time. She wants to ask me about my presentation? 

"The Radlee Garogan Zoology Fund?" I say, a bit disappointed. This is it? Rosa nods eagerly, but a frown is forming on my face. The thought is circling like a hawk around my head, until finally, it jumps out of my throat. "What about my presentation?"

"It's good. Like, really good. And I don't have any idea of what I should do for my presentation. So I was wondering if I could use yours.....?" She twists her fingers awkwardly and cocks her head, giving a simpering, slightly sickening grin. I scoot back in my chair. Use my presentation? As in, copy it? Like cheating?

As if our minds were syncopated, Ivory interjects, "But Rosa, that's cheating!" Rosa just shrugs and twirls her hair around her finger. I have no idea what to say. I mean, the obvious answer, the answer I know I should be telling her, is no. She'd be getting all the credit for my hard work. And why? It's not even that good! I sink into the chair, my face warm, not knowing what to say. Because I feel slightly elated, that Rosa, the craziest, coolest girl in LSMSEA wants to use my presentation. And because of my excitement, I feel even more ashamed.

"I....I don't know," I say finally, feeling torn apart. To avoid having to say

anything else, I eat more of my sandwich. Thank the universe for sausage. "Look, Rosa, it's not even that good! And how did you see it anyway?"

Rosa shrugs, though she looks a bit sheepish. "Oh, I just asked Mr. Welshar for a file that has a link to this document and that has another link to a folder with all the presentations. I needed it for something else, but I was exploring a bit, and I was so hopelessly lost, that I decided to check out the presentations and maybe get a few ideas!" She tells me. I take another bite of my sandwich.

"Uh.....maybe I can help you with ideas? I just....I don't want to have to start all over again," I pipe nervously. I really don't know what to do. The thing is, I worked hard on that. Yesterday, when I was off of school, I spent an hour and a half working on it, and I've been working on it for nearly five hours total! They were stressful and frustrating, as half of the time, I was just desperately racking my brain for ideas. It's not worth it to get Rosa and India as good friends. Is it?

"Oh, of course. I get it," Rosa sighs, fiddling with her spoon and letting her plastic smile drop into an overly disappointed expression. Trying not to let out a groan, I sink into my chair and look up at the walls again, almost wishing they'll close in on me this time. I hate it when people try to guilt me into doing them favors. I hate it even more when it works. And right now, it feels like it will.

"Brooke, you shouldn't let her cheat. She hacked into Mr. Welshar's files, if Rosa does this, she'll be in even more trouble. Rosa, you know that," Ivory urges. "Well, it's not like I can be in any deeper trouble, right, Ivory? And I didn't really hack. If you think about it, he gave me access." She smiles a little bit, and suddenly, her eyes gleam. "And from your conversation with Mrs. Allar this morning, Brooke, it doesn't sound like you can be either."

I should act casual, I tell myself, about to spit out the food I just ate. I can't let her get to me. I'm not going to freak out. Instead, after swallowing a bit of sandwich, I cock my head and say, "What are you talking about?" Unfortunately, I am a terrible actor and liar, and Rosa sees right through me.

"Brooke, I heard you, you know what I'm talking about. I'm just saying, if you're worried about being in trouble, you don't have to be." Rosa makes it sound almost encouraging. I'm about to say yes when I remember Community Service on Monday, how terrible I felt, how I almost burst into tears with frustration, how I just fiercely shook my head whenever Mr. Welshar asked if I was alright. That was terrible, and I'm not going through that again.

"It's not being in trouble. It's that....well, I just worked really hard on my presentation, and I really like the Radlee Fund. I volunteer there sometimes, and I just really, really wanted to do that as my presentation. Rosa, honestly, another fund that you could do for your presentation is the Larkingwood Birdhouse Base. It's a really cool...organization, and I think, if you're really worried, you should do that," I suggest. "They have a lot of great photos, you could make a slideshow. You'd do really well."

Rosa brightens. "Okay, Brooke. Thanks so much! I'll be sure to take that into consideration. C'mon, Ivory, do you want to go the computer lab and get some info the.....what was it called? Oh, the Birdhouse Base! Thanks, Brooke. See you around sometime?" Before I can answer, Rosa and Ivory have leapt out of their chairs and hurried away.

Wow. Okay. That was curt. I sigh and shake my head, telling myself it's nothing, but I still can't help but feel like something's not right. Rosa and Ivory barely responded. I want to get outside as soon as possible. The walls suddenly feel a lot more suffocating. With another sigh, I finish my sandwich and clean up the table, before heading towards the big double doors and setting my sights on the playground. Still, I can't help but steal one last glance at the two of them, Rosa and Ivory, and give a start. It may just be my imagination, but I could have sworn that Rosa was glaring at me.