Lunch and a Show

Micheal Peterson:

"Mmmmm," I say, my mouth drooling as I look at my very delicious chicken burger with french fries and milk. "Nothing like a hearty lunch after a quick nap."

Thinking back to when I accidentally fell asleep during 4th-period biology class, snapping back into reality and hurrying to the lunchroom. Looking for a place to sit, I notice Ash sitting by her lonesome at a table.

"Hey Ash," I say, waving and joining her.

"Oh hey Micheal," Ash replies, waving back and putting down her soda. "What's up?"

"Since yesterday," I ask, "Hmm. Not much, unfortunately. Maybe tomorrow, something excitedly will happen and I can tell you all about it."

"Can't wait," Ash laughs.

"What about you? Anything to report in your life?"

"No, not really."

Setting my plate down, Ash reaches for some fries but I slap her hand away.

"No," I say, pointing a finger at her. "No. My fries. Mine."

Grabbing two and popping them into my mouth, I open my milk carton.

"Come on," Ash begs, reaching for another fry but my reflexes being faster than her, I slap her hand away.

"Again," I say, pull my tray further away. "No. Mine. My French fries. Mine!"

"Oh don't be selfish, Micheal. Please, I'm starving."

"Can you be starving? Lunch just started like, ten minutes ago."

"Yeah, and in those ten minutes, I finish my mac n' cheese, my apple, and I'm already more than halfway through with my soda."

Grabbing and rolling toward me the core of her eaten apple, she then snatches a fry away from me and tosses it in her mouth.

"You want it back," she asks, smiling and revealing potatoes-covered teeth.

"No, but I will take a sip of this," I answer, stealing her soda and opening the bottle.

"No," she says, reaching for the bottle but stopping when I push her back.

"It's called a trade," I say, taking a sip of some cola before giving it back.

"I think it's only a trade if we both agree to it."

"Yeah, I didn't agree to give you a fry."

"You didn't 'what' to give Ash a 'what'," interrupts someone. Looking to our side, we see Brian standing there, a tray in his hands.

"I did not agree to trade a sip of her soda for one of my French fries," I answer, my eyes not leaving my plate. "We may have been friends since the day she glues one of my shoes to the floor but that doesn't mean I'm going to willingly give her my lunch. Especially if I'm hungry."

"Wait," Brian asks, "What? Ash glued one of your shoes to the floor. When was this?"

"The fourth grade," Ash answers, "When the teacher picked us to build a small California float together."

"Hmm. You know, it sounded a lot like how we became friends in the first place."

Hitting me in the arm, I flashback to the day when I first met Brian

Micheal Peterson (2nd Grade):

"I am Spiderman," I say, picturing myself in his red-and-blue jumpsuit. "I am Spiderman. I am Spiderman."

Opening my eyes, I turn my head to see all of the playgrounds, kids everywhere playing and running around. Meanwhile, I am clinging onto the railings of the playground's set, my toes being the only part of me still standing on the set.

Slowly making my way over to the top of the slide, where I'm planning to enter through, shuffling myself closer and closer, I stop when I sense something incoming.

Looking behind me again, I see a giant red ball hit me right in the face. Screaming and letting go, I drop onto the wood chips below me, wood chips not exactly 'softening' my landing. Moaning and holding my head, I see through blurry vision someone running to me.

"Hey," a student with a bald head and dark skin says, kneeling down beside me. "Hey! Are you okay? Oh, shoot! I'm so sorry about that!"

The blurry visions going away, I look at the student again.

"Hey sweet," I say, noticing his t-shirt. "Spiderman."

Micheal Peterson (Present):

"Wow," Ash says, scratching her head. "And I thought how we became friends was embarrassing."

"It wasn't embarrassing," I replied. "It was just painful, but hey, it leads to this."

Pointing between myself and Brian, I move aside to make space for him. Taking the empty seat, Ash then dug into his lunch as well.

"Okay seriously," I say, looking at Ash. "At least ask first."

Looking at Brian with big, watery, puppy eyes, she reaches for his chip bag.

"Can I please have this?"

"Sure," Brain replies without so much as a fight.

"Thank you very much."

Opening and popping one into her mouth, she then very loudly crunch it in front of me.

"Oh no," Brian says, bumping me in the arm. "Watch out. Here comes trouble."

Pointing at Kevin Randall, I begin to feel a sharp pain in both my stomach and head.

"Oh no," I say, watching as Kevin and his, as I like to call them, 'posse', walk over to where someone I didn't know is sitting.

"Oh no," Ash says, watching Kevin and his posse before turning back to us. "This is not going to end well."

"Yeah, you think," I say, still watching as Kevin begins picking on someone with short yellow hair, glasses, and a yellow-and-green plaid shirt. "I mean, come on douchebag! Leave the guy alone! He's just trying to have his lunch."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Ash says, the three of us still watching as the guy suddenly slams his milk carton in Kevin's face!

"What the heck," I scream, watching as Kevin stumbles back, milk falling from his face. Wiping it off, he looks up just in time to get a punch right in the face!

"Holy moly!"

The student now up and ready for a fight, his fists up and closed, looks at one of the guys in Randall's posse.

"You want some too," he asks, stepping toward the guy. The guy, Ralph Biggs I think his name is, is a fat guy who is on the wrestling team. From what I heard about him, he actually uses his fatness to his advantage, his stomach begins a brick wall no one can lift.

Bringing up his fists too, Ralph wents in for a swing but the student jumps back, dodging it! Before Ralph can do anything else, the student steps around Ralph and kicks out one of his knees!

"Oooohhh," I say, lending back and watching Ralph fall. Pushing him over, the student then looks at the final member of Randall's posse: Nikita Trix.

Nikita Trix is a major prankster, always playing annoying pranks on everyone; taking and hiding their backpack, putting paints or mud on their seats, and rumor is, once she even managed to somehow prank the principal by unleashing a bunch of pigeons in his office. She never confesses to it nor was she caught due to her 'solid alibi', being at a Starbuck Ralph and Kevin ten miles away. Frankly, I don't think that going to work with him.

Taking a full step toward Nikita, his fist hovering beside his head, a bunch of school proctors from out of nowhere grabs him.

"Hey," he screams, pulling free and pulling up his hands. "It wasn't my fault! They started it! They started it but I ended it!"

"You're coming with us to the principal," one of the proctors yells, grabbing her radio and asking for some carts. Two school mini-carts showing up later, two proctors got in one with the student while the last one carries Tom and Ralph into the other. Driving away, the rest of us are stunned as to what just happened.

Snapping out of it, I look back at Ash and Brian.

"Okay," I start, pointing a finger at the two. "I'm not the only one that just saw that, right? Like, I know my head is full to the brim with fight scenes from DC and Marvel movies, but that really just happened, right?"

"Oh yeah," Brian replies, his eyes stuck on where it happened. "I mean, did you see that? The way he fought? It was like watching Thrill Rider himself!"

"Who is that," I ask, taking a seat beside Brian.

"I think his name is Tyler Western," Ash answers. "He's new, and from what I heard about him, he's kind of a loner."

"Maybe that's for the best," Brian comments. "I mean, can you imagine being friends with someone like that?"

"I wouldn't go that far," I add, bumping Brian. "I mean, Kevin was kind of asking for it."

Turning to face me, I shrug my shoulders.

"What? Oh come on, it's not like Kevin, Ralph, or Nikita are the greatest people ever. They're bullies. Bullies that picked on the wrong guy and regretted it."