Amy wound her way through the school cafeteria, her tray held out in front of her like a shield. “Damn inconsiderate idiots,” she muttered as she skirted a couple of GAP-clad girls who were blocking the already-too-narrow aisle. Sam, Mike and John were in the midst of discussion at the usual table. Amy sighed and sat down next to John.
“The capital should be in Winnipeg,” Sam was saying. “That is the center of the country, after all.”
“Are you sure you want the capital in Winnipeg? That’s a whole city of people just like Tyler,” John said.
“Nice generalization, John,” Amy cut in. “If we all went around assuming the character of an entire group because we’ve met one of its members, well...”
Before Amy could finish, she sighted Elinor and Andrew entering meal hall. She waved. “Friend-type people!” She said happily. Beside her, John grumbled. “Maybe I’ll consider them my friends when they start speaking to me in complete sentences,” he muttered under his breath as he got up to leave. He brushed past Elinor as she approached the table carrying only a tray.
“Are you going to eat anything?” Amy asked, glancing at the napkins on her friend’s tray. “Napkins really aren’t all that filling.”
“I’m not hungry,” Elinor sighed as she sat down.
Amy poked at her pasta fantastica. “I don’t blame you,” she said. “Besides, you don’t need any more food anyway, with that whale ass of yours. It already takes up, what...”
“Three bus seats now,” Elinor laughed.
Andrew arrived next, brandishing his customary bowl of corn pops. “KNOW YOUR ROLE!” he shouted to the table as he took his place opposite Elinor.
“DO YOU SMELL WHAT THE ROCK IS COOKING?” Mike roared back. Andrew and Mike continued trading Rock slogans as Amy turned to face Sam and Elinor.
“So, what’s up?” She asked as she shook salt into her glass of Sprite and watched it fizz. “Any plans for tonight?”
“I’m just going to watch the news,” Sam replied. “And then I think Andrew, Mike and I are going to rent The Patriot, if you two want to join us.”
“Mel Gibson? No thanks,” Amy said as she poured the salted Sprite onto her remaining pasta and started to stir. “I hate him. I will never forgive that man for What Women Want.”
“I heard The Patriot is bad, anyway,” Elinor said, struggling to be heard over the sound of Mike, who had begun singing. “It’s supposed to be really historically inaccurate. Pop Matters hated it...”
“Dude, Mel Gibson is in it!” Amy cried. “That’s reason enough not to watch.”
“Well, we...” Sam started to respond, but was cut off by Mike’s off-key rendition of the Goo Goo Doll’s “Iris.”
Elinor shuddered and slouched in her seat. “I hate that song,” she growled through clenched teeth. “I’m going to go get food.” She stood up and strode towards the kitchen.
Amy shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m not watching that stupid movie,” she said. “It doesn’t look like Elinor wants to, either.”
“Elinor just won’t watch it because it’s popular,” Andrew cut in. “And because she hates everything.”
“She doesn’t hate everything,” Amy replied. “She just has some taste, which is more than I can say for you...”
“Fuck you!” Andrew cried in mock outrage. “I have taste!”
“This from the guy who sings “Who let the dogs out” and thinks the Rock is hot,” Amy sighed.
“You’re the one with no taste,” Andrew said. “You went out with Sam, after all.”
“Hey!” Sam objected through a mouth full of pineapple.
“The Rock is hot,” Mike said suddenly. “But not as hot as Russell Crowe. If I were gay...”
Elinor returned at this moment carrying a bowl of chocolate pudding. “What are we taking about now?” She asked as she sat down.
“Ugly celebrities,” Amy laughed. “And how Mike lusts after Russell Crowe - who is ugly, by the way.”
“That’s not unusual. Even homophobic men lust after Russell Crowe,” Andrew said, leaning over to steal a spoonful of Elinor’s pudding.
“Yeah,” Sam added. “Men like him, but most women don’t. He’s like that girl from Save the Last Dance that no guys like, but all the girls love.”
“Julia Stiles,” Amy and Elinor said at once. “I do like Julia Stiles,” Amy conceded. She scooped up a spoonful of pudding and dropped it onto her Sprite-soaked pasta.
“That’s disgusting,” Mike said, wrinkling his nose at Amy’s plate.
“We’ve made worse,” Sam replied, pouring his pineapple juice onto the pasta. Amy stirred the new ingredients in as Elinor garnished the dish with a soggy corn pop from Andrew’s bowl.
“Well, you’re boring me,” Andrew said abruptly, grabbing his tray. “I have to go to class.”
“I think I’ll leave, too,” Elinor said. “I’m going to steal a bagel first, though.”
“I see Kathryn coming,” Amy said. “So I’m gonna go, too. I’ve had enough of this crappy food, anyway.”
Not wanting to be stuck sitting with Kathryn, Sam and Mike followed suit, and the five friends put away their trays and left the cafeteria.
And it was a good thing, too, because they made it out the cafeteria door just in time to avoid being crushed by the huge alien spaceship* that crashed through the ceiling of Prince Hall, destroying everyone within.
THE END.
*Okay, okay, that has never happened. But I didn’t have a good ending, and Elinor told me to “get creative” and put a spaceship in the story, and... well...
Come on, it’s not that unbelievable. Where did you think all those “Toronto private school kids” come from, anyway?
