//Break

I sit with my best friend every day, by the cafeteria window. She always manages to get there before me, God knows how. Probably, she skips fourth period. But everyday, she’s there, sulking. Until I come.

I pretend to open up a textbook to something I’m supposed to study, but really, I just want to talk to her. And mostly, that’s what I end up doing. She tells me everything.

It was a Thursday when I found our usual table unusually empty. I thought, She’s late. That’s a first. And I made my way to it, smugly.

 I opened up a book—Physics that time—to page 79, pushed my tray of food to the side. As I waited, I let my eyes drift around the crowded lunch hall, to each and every corner of loose, rowdy students.

That’s when I spotted her. She was sitting at another table, with someone else. Someone I didn’t know. They were alone, away from the chaos of lunch hour.

She was smiling the entire time. I threw my lunch away.