Chapter Text
It was only a week into the fall semester, and Aniq didn’t know how he was going to get through lunch.
The Gauntlet. That was what Aniq called the cafeteria, inside his head. It had seemed so freeing at first, back in sixth grade, to be able to choose where to sit. But it was a curse, like most of the so-called perks of junior high. The cafeteria was a trial, or maybe a final exam with a single instruction: Don’t Sit Alone.
Intellectually, Aniq knew that there were no material consequences for sitting alone. It wasn’t like the world was going to collapse. But it still kind of felt like it might. At the very least, it would telegraph to everyone that Aniq had no friends who would sit with him. And therein lay the problem. Jeremy, Aniq’s closest and only real friend from elementary school, had moved to Florida over the summer. There were the band kids, but Aniq didn’t really know them that well. And today, he couldn’t even spot them in the cafeteria. That was another danger of the Gauntlet: spending too much time circling the perimeter was almost as bad as sitting down alone. So Aniq decided to do one loop around the cafeteria and then retreat to the library. It was okay to be alone in the library. You weren’t supposed to eat there, but maybe if he asked very politely and swore to clean up after himself, the librarian would let him. Plus, he told himself, he could get a head start on his Social Studies reading.
Then, before Aniq could finish his loop, someone knocked him off-balance. His lunchbox went flying, and the latch popped open as it hit the ground. Aniq turned to face the culprit, afraid it was going to be a hostile and beefy eighth grader. Instead, he was face-to-face with a grimacing, lanky boy with frizzy brown curls. “Oh my god, oh my god, I’m sorry!” the boy squawked, hands flying up to his face in horror. “Oh noooooo, your lunch!”
Grapes rolled helplessly on the cafeteria floor. Aniq was raised to always clean up after himself, so he bent down to pick them up, along with the rest of his food. The PB&J was a little smushed, though probably still salvageable, since it was in a baggie.
The boy didn’t help pick up any of the grapes, but bounced back and forth uncomfortably on his feet. “Man, those grapes went everywhere. I feel terrible. Lemme buy you something better? The cookies here are actually amazeballs.”
Aniq straightened up; this was an unexpected offer. He began to politely refuse, but not with any real conviction. He did feel like he was owed a replacement lunch. “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“It’s fine,” the boy insisted as he steered Aniq into the lunch line. “I get free food all the time; the lunch ladies love me.” He handed Aniq a tray and began piling food indiscriminately onto it, which was a relief, because Aniq didn’t know how to navigate the boundaries of this open-ended offer to replace his food. “Hey, are we in the same English class?”
Everything was happening so fast. Aniq felt like he was being swept into a whirlpool, but a pleasant and warm one. “Uh, Ms. Bass, first period?” If they were in the same English class, Aniq hadn’t noticed, but that wasn't unusual. There were five different elementary schools that fed into their middle school. This early into the semester, most of his classmates were still strangers.
“We are!” The boy excitedly smacked Aniq on the shoulder. “I thought it was you but I couldn’t tell. I sit in the back cause I’m always forgetting my pencils and crap. Plus I fall asleep a lot,” he added in an extremely loud whisper. “I’m Yasper!”
“Aniq.” It was lucky that Yasper was talking so much, because it spared Aniq from the awkward silence that resulted from Aniq’s tendency to freeze up around people. He hated it, this invisible barrier that no one else seemed to have. Even when Aniq knew exactly what he wanted to say, he would still rehearse the words in his head until the conversation had long since moved on.
“Well, I am so sorry I destroyed your lunch, Aniq, but isn’t this better?” There was no space left on Aniq’s tray. Yasper placed a cookie precariously on top of a bag of Funyuns, then, almost as an afterthought, grabbed a banana. It was the only fruit on either of their trays. “Try the cookie and then tell me.”
Was this guy rich, or did he just feel really guilty? “Um, this is a lot of food, are you sure—?”
Yasper waved him away. “It’s fine. Watch.” He sidled up to the checkout and dramatically widened his eyes. “Maureen?! Is that you? I thought you were Halle Berry with that haircut. It looks hella sick!”
The lunch lady at the checkout counter laughed and shook her head. “What do you want, Yasper?”
“You always assume I want something! Okay, okay, fine. This is my new friend Aniq. I smacked right into him and ruined his lunch so I’m trying to make it up to him.” Yasper looked up at Maureen with wide, innocent eyes. “I can’t let Aniq go hungry!”
“Oh, uh—” Aniq stammered. He didn’t want an employee of the school thinking he was malnourished, or worse, that he was trying to manipulate them. “I’m not—”
“Sounds like you’ve known this poor boy for thirty seconds and you’re already terrorizing him,” Maureen scolded, as she pressed some buttons on the cash register. The total price dropped by half. “Aniq, be careful around this one. He’s trouble.”
Yasper didn’t even pretend to be offended; he just did a little jump in the air and handed over a few dollars. “You’re the bomb-dot-com, Maureen! This is the last time, I swear.”
Maureen shook her head again, but she was clearly trying to stifle a smile. “Yeah, right. Get out of here.”
It was funny, how Yasper had completely charmed Maureen despite having no manners. Aniq didn't know how to do that, and even if he did, it would never have occurred to him. Aniq was all about good manners. “Thank you very much,” he responded to Maureen.
As they exited the lunch line, Yasper turned to Aniq, and said under his breath, “I told you. They love me.”
This is where it ends, Aniq thought. Yasper seemed like the kind of person who could strike up a conversation with anybody. Surely he had better places to be, cooler friends waiting for him in the cafeteria. He’d already been a lot nicer than Aniq had expected, for someone who randomly plowed into him. Aniq had assumed Yasper would get him a cookie and be on his way. He hadn’t anticipated Yasper buying him a mountain of food.
He certainly hadn’t anticipated Yasper leading him to an empty table and gesturing for Aniq to sit down, then spending the rest of lunch talking to Aniq like they were already friends. Like there was nowhere else in the world Yasper wanted to be.
But he did. Yasper attached himself to Aniq like a barnacle. He didn’t let go for the next six years.