The sophomore cafeteria at Oakridge High always smelled like stale bleach and cheap pepperoni.
It was the loudest room in the building during fourth period because three different grades were crammed together before noon.
I usually sat at the very end table near the emergency exit because nobody else wanted to sit near the drafty door.
I liked having that little bit of space so I could prop my sketchbook against the edge of the metal bench.
Mr. Davis had given us a specific assignment to capture human emotion using only heavy compressed charcoal and rough paper.
I had spent four hours the night before working on the hands of my older brother playing his acoustic guitar.
My oversized thrift-store sweater kept slipping off my shoulder because the knit was completely stretched out from being washed too many times.
I had my headphones resting loosely around my neck playing some quiet indie folk music to block out the cafeteria noise.
Maya was sitting right across from me eating her usual turkey wrap and scrolling through her TikTok feed.
We hadn't talked much that morning because she spent the first period hanging out with the track team by the lockers.
I didn't think much of it at the time since Maya always made new friends easily during the track season.
The ambient chatter of the room was interrupted when Chloe and Sarah walked past our table carrying their lunch trays.
Chloe was wearing a bright pink puffer vest that practically glowed under the harsh fluorescent ceiling lights.
She was talking loudly about some weekend party that most of the kids at our table hadn't been invited to attend.
I kept my head down and focused on blending the shadow beneath the guitar strings with my finger.
Chloe suddenly stopped right behind my chair and pretended to trip over the backpack strap I had neatly tucked under the bench.
Her plastic water bottle slipped from her hand and bounced directly onto the center of my heavy drawing paper.
The sound of the plastic hitting the wooden table made a sharp slap that cut through the surrounding conversation.
"Oops, my bad, didn't see your weird trash sitting there," she said without even looking down at the ruined graphite lines.
Her voice had that casual, dismissive tone that let everyone know she didn't consider me worth looking at directly.
Before I could reach out to grab the paper, Sarah casually kicked my entire portfolio off the table and onto the sticky floor.
The water bottle cap popped off, soaking the bottom half of my sketches in warm, slightly carbonated lemon water.
The charcoal instantly dissolved into dark, muddy streaks that ruined the intricate details I had spent hours perfecting.
Everyone at the surrounding tables went dead silent for a second before a few people started whispering behind their hands.
I stayed frozen in my seat with my pencil still tightly gripped between my thumb and index finger.
My knuckles were completely white because I was squeezing the wooden barrel so hard it started to bite into my skin.
Chloe didn't apologize or pick anything up, she just stepped over the wet paper and walked toward the exit doors.
Sarah laughed quietly behind her hand and followed her out toward the courtyard doors without looking back.
My best friend Maya kept staring straight down at her phone screen the entire time like she hadn't seen a thing.
She didn't reach down to help me gather my pencils or offer even a small sympathetic glance.
