THE HALLS ARE FILLED with teenagers; the noise product of their conversations is everywhere. With her thumb, she presses the volume key on the side of her phone, turning the music up a little bit, as she makes her way to the cafeteria without a rush. Once there, she takes a seat on the first empty table she spots, puts her backpack over the table, and takes out the small bag of almonds she has brought from home and the bottle with iced tea. Her eyes scan the place, looking for a certain cocky boy who is supposed to be there with her to study, but there are no signs of him - not like it bothers her.
Soon enough, two blue-eyed boys make their way toward her, holding trays on their hands as they talk casually and then take a seat on her table. She unplugs her earphones. "Hello, Petunia," Eli
