Chapter 25

Lunch period had arrived, marking one of the most challenging times of the day for men. Unsure if I would have supper that evening, skipping lunch was simply not an option. The shiny linoleum floors were marred by spills from careless students, and the fluorescent lighting overhead cast a washed-out green hue on everyone's pale faces.

It was Tacos Day, easily one of my least favorite days. The air was saturated with the pungent aroma of greasy, low-grade meat combined with artificial shredded cheese. As I stood in line for my daily dose of nausea, I was oddly pleased that, for once, everyone seemed to overlook me, even if I knew that wouldn't last long.

I grabbed a foam tray from the stack and proceeded through the line, careful not to get too close to the people ahead or behind me. There were alternatives to tacos, such as the ever-present square pizza, fries, fish sticks, and other unappetizing choices, but that didn't matter to me.

Unlike the other students, w