The thing about cafeterias is... they suck.
They always sll like lted cheese and poor life choices. The tables are never clean. And if you’re lucky, maybe half the food won’t try to kill you. I don’t usually eat here — I smuggle snacks into the library like a criminal.
But after this morning? Yeah. I needed carbs. And distance.
Except I got neither.
Because she followed .
Again.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just walked behind . No tray. No food. Just her high heels click-clacking across the linoleum floor like they owned the place — which, considering her last na, they probably did.
I tried to lose her. Zig-zag through crowds. Sit in the nerd section near the microwave with the weird sll.
Didn’t matter.
I sat and she sat next to .
Correction: pressed herself next to like we were on a date. Like I’d invited her. Like we weren’t in a cafeteria with 150 other college students staring at us like this was so kind of student council ani arc.
I felt them watching.
Especially the cool kids. Rich guys in varsity jackets and expensive haircuts. The ones who usually ignore my existence unless they need howork done.
Now?
They were watching like I’d stolen their yacht.
"You always sit alone?" she asked, turning her full attention to . Her voice was syrupy now — soft and smooth and just a little too sweet to trust.
I didn’t look at her. "Sotis I hide in the library."
She humd, like that was cute. "You don’t talk much."
"Words cost energy."
"Smart answer."
She leaned in. "So. What’s your na?"
I paused. Thought about lying. Giving her sothing like "Darth Vader Jr." or "Leave Alone Please."
But she was staring at like she already knew.
"...Kai," I muttered. "Kai Tanaka."
She smiled.
It was... unsettling.
Not because it was fake — but because it wasn’t. She looked genuinely pleased, like I’d just passed so invisible test she’d made up five seconds ago.
"I’m Celestia," she said, even though everyone already knew. "But you can call whatever you want."
"I’ll stick with Celestia."
She tilted her head, fake-pouting. "Boring."
"Accurate."
She giggled. Like I was hilarious. Which I’m not. Ask literally anyone.
Then she shifted closer. Our shoulders touched. Her perfu hit like a truck made of roses and war cris.
She whispered:
"Do you have a girlfriend, Kai?"
I froze. I didn’t answer. She didn’t wait though.
> "When are you gonna break up with her?"
I blinked. "...I don’t."
> "Don’t what?"
"Have a girlfriend."
"Oh," she said, and then smiled like I’d just told her Christmas ca early. "Good."
"You’re insane."
> "Possibly."
"You don’t even know ."
> "I’m learning."
I turned to face her. "Why are you doing this?"
And that’s when it happened.
The switch. One second she was cute and coy and bratty.
The next, her expression dropped — eyes sharpening, voice quiet, almost too calm.
"Because you helped ," she said, lips barely moving. "Because you didn’t stare at my chest or ask for my number or try to impress with your daddy’s car."
"Because you treated like I was a person."
She leaned in closer. "And that pisses off."
My breath caught.
She kept going. "You made feel sothing. I don’t know what it is yet. But I’m going to figure it out. And you—"
Her eyes flicked to the guys watching us.
"—are mine now."
Then, just as fast, she smiled again.
Flawless. Flirty. Like nothing happened.
She reached over, took a single tater tot off my tray, and popped it into her mouth.
"Ugh," she said, grimacing. "This is disgusting."
"Then why’d you eat it?"
> "To remind myself I’m better than everyone here."
And then? She winked.
She winked.
The cool guys were still watching. One of them whispered sothing to another. I couldn’t hear it, but it didn’t matter. The look in their eyes told enough.
I wasn’t invisible anymore.
I was sothing else.
A target? A joke? A threat?
All I knew was... lunch was officially ruined.
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