Chapter Text
Virgil rolls his peas around his lunch tray again. Logan and Roman are ‘discussing’; that is to say they’re arguing. Today’s topic is Roman’s studying technique, or lack thereof, and poor Patton is trying to mediate. Of course mediation mostly means making sure Logan doesn’t use words Roman doesn’t understand, and Roman doesn’t grab anything off a lunch tray and start flinging it.
They’ve long since learned not to pressure Virgil to pick sides when they get like this. Whoever’s closest usually gets hit by the fight part of ‘fight or flight’ and it’s resulted in a detention or two for the group in the past. Yeah, it’s better for everyone if he’s just left to his own devices, an empty seat between him and Roman just to be on the safe side.
The seat on his other side shifts and there’s a clunk as someone sits next to him, dropping his lunch tray down with a clatter. Virgil glances over and nods at the kid, but says and does nothing else.
Black short sleeve shirt, and two black and white striped wrist bands. His hair is dark and floppy, while his make up could easily rival Virgil’s own, heavy set black around his eyes, and two streaks of blue down his cheeks like tears.
“Who’s that?” Patton whispers.
“A new student.” Logan responds. “He’s in our math class.” he gestures between himself and Virgil.
“Well why’s he sitting at our table?” Roman is a little less quiet, and the kid definitely hears him. Looking up, he pins Roman with the kind of glare that would curdle milk. There’s a beat of maybe two seconds before the kid just pushes himself to his feet again and leaves.
The others all glare at Roman.
“What? What did I do?” Roman is genuinely confused. There is a delicate balance in the social hierarchy of the lunchroom and this kid thinks he can just park his derriere next to them without even a hello? Rude.
“He just threw his lunch away,” Patton strains to keep him in sight until he’s walked out the room. “Did he even eat any of it?”
“He doesn’t like attention.” Virgil tells them.