Not Hungry

Lunch could not have arrived sooner for Michael Smith, Christopher Jones, and Sarah Green as they gathered around their cafeteria table to discuss a matter of great urgency and importance. The topic concerned a classmate of theirs by the name of Ronald Pierce who had said something which greatly upset Chris and so affected Mike and Sarah, his two best friends (the latter being his girlfriend). Chris sank his teeth into a fat double cheeseburger and said,

"Does he even have friends? Seriously, I don't think he has any friends. He's a loser."

Earlier that morning, Ron had made a snide comment regarding Chris's shirt, a pink-striped polo which he purchased after extensive deliberation at Express for $70 plus tax. Because he was a sensitive type and didn't take kindly to criticism on what he felt was an infallible fashion sense, Chris responded by spitting a derogatory name at Ron and shoving him against a locker. Ron, a happy-go-lucky fellow who normally had a comeback for every occasion, flashed an improper hand gesture and stormed off in silent rage. Several of their classmates witnessed the confrontation; consequently, its amusing particulars were twisted and distorted throughout the course of the day.

"Then it doesn't matter what he says about your shirt. I think it's sexy."

Sarah wrapped an emaciated arm around Chris's neck and kissed his cheek. Irritated by her unsympathetic, slightly condescending tone, he recoiled at the touch of her lips. For a moment, he questioned the true merit of their relationship. She was brunette, thin, and exceptional in her studies but failed to make a strong physical impression - at least in certain specific areas. Chris wanted a girl he could show off to his friends, a girl of flawless complexion who would incite bitterness and jealousy. Personality could only go so far, sad to say, and Sarah's pseudo-intellectualism had reached its limit. Her entire knowledge of current events could be found within an issue of Newsweek. There were hints of attractiveness in her features yet they rarely if ever came out, obscured by a bland look that consisted chiefly of plain-color tops and conservative skirts. To add insult to injury, her face was too round, her nose was too big, and her hips were too wide. Chris, who kept in shape and bought only the most expensive clothing brands, could not help but feel superior to her in every respect. He made a mental note to break up with her the next week.

Mike's eyes flared with envy as Sarah kissed Chris. Since they first became friends, Mike had always harbored a sharp and uncontrollable resentment towards Chris. It wasn't occasion-based; he felt it every time they interacted, with an intensity that threatened to spill out at every moment. Part of the problem was Mike's secret infatuation with Sarah, whom he believed to be the physical composite of perfection. Her every action captivated him - even mundane tasks such as brushing her hair or biting her fingernails. He loved how saliva splashed out of her mouth when she devoured a mozzarella stick. Chris's relative indifference to her beauty was infuriating. He didn't deserve a magnificent goddess like Sarah when it was clear he would be just as satisfied with a scantily-clad bimbo.

"I'm not mad," Chris said. "It just irritates me when losers with no fashion sense criticize what other people wear. I'm standing up for the other people he makes fun of, too."

"Personally, I think you're making a big deal out of nothing," Mike replied. "Ron's cool. He probably didn't mean anything by it."

"Yeah, I like Ron," Sarah said.

"Ron's a faggot," Chris shot back. "I wonder if he's ever had a girlfriend."

"Didn't he go with Jennifer Ryan for awhile?"

Chris laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised. She's such a cow."

"Don't be nasty."

"It's true. I wouldn't touch that with a ten-foot pole."

Mike felt terribly self-conscious. He'd never had a girlfriend before and was worried the conversation would move to his single status. Nothing could be more humiliating, especially in front of Sarah. The subject needed a change-

"Man, that math test sucked today."

Chris was oblivious. "Overall, Ronald Pierce should not be telling me what I should and shouldn't wear. He dated Jennifer Ryan for Christ's sake. That's the lowest you can go, right there."

"Okay dude, he never told you not to wear the shirt," said Mike. "He just said it looked fruity."

"You have a crush on Ron or something? You keep defending him."

"No, but I think it's unfair for you to be saying all this crap about him when half of it isn't even true."

"Sarah, I think Mikey has a crush. We should set up a date for them."

To Mike's horror, Sarah played along. "Yeah, we totally should! You guys would look so cute together."

"Whatever," Mike retaliated. "I'm not the one getting all uptight because someone made fun of my pink shirt."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? It was just an excuse for me to hit the kid. I couldn't care less what he thinks about my shirt."

This statement was blatantly false and both of them knew it. However, Mike didn't feel like having an argument. What was the point when there could only be one winner? Instead he stood up and walked away, soaking in the hundreds of faces which surrounded him, all embroiled in their own situations, their own drama. How trivial. How expected. How processed. The incessant chattering voices, punctuated by the sound of food being torn apart and digested, pounded in his eardrums. Hamburger smells, pizza smells, and people smells gradually coalesced into a single rotten odor. He felt as if he might throw up.

Chris pulled Sarah to his side and kissed her forehead affectionately. He felt strangely satisfied somehow, as if a large burden had been lifted from him. Sure, Mike was angry now. But he'd get over it. Chris knew just the remedy-

"Sarah, we have got to find Michael a girlfriend."