Rarae Aves

“Hey, Am-ski,” greeted Max, one of Amber’s other friends, “What’s up?”

“Eh, Mr. Smith and Mrs. DeLainey gave me a bunch of lip about not doing homework, but other than that, today’s been pretty okay,” rejoined Amber as she sat down next to Max with all their other friends.

Max was a pretty cool dude; he was really into sports and he wanted to be a hairstylist when he got older. Amber liked sports, too, and he was pretty much the only one willing to play with her. The others were more interested in other types of activities. Another friend of hers was Jeff, the biggest comic book geek in the entire town. He took the name with pride. He had so many first editions in mint condition, it was crazy. In fact, Amber was a little jealous of all the comic Jeff had in his collection.

Another guy in the circle of friends was Devon, or as most of the kids outside of his friends would call him, “that kid that’s into devil stuff and witchcraft.” That couldn’t be any further from the truth. Sure, Devon liked a lot of underground metal, punk, and darkwave music, as well as wore a lot of black clothing, but he wasn’t the evil guy that everyone painted him to be. As a joke, and to prove a point and point out everyone’s ignorance, he actually stenciled the words “Child of Satan” on each and every one of his jackets. The last of Amber’s friends was Devon’s younger sister, Tia, but she rarely spoke. When she did speak, it was hard for anyone to hear her. She was a real trendy chick, always looking like she just came out of the pages of a magazine. She may have had the fashion sense of a superstar, but she sure lacked the confidence of one. The poor girl was extremely shy, not having anything to do with any of the kids in her own grade level, the freshman class. Tia didn’t like the idea of being around anyone outside of her brother and the rest of the gang. Even then, it was still rare for her to have a conversation with any human being other than Devon.

Amber, Mason, Max, Tia, Devon, and Jeff…the six of them always sat together at the exact same table in the lunch room ever since the school year started. All of the tables were filled with all of the stereotypical high school cliques like the popular kids, the overly religious kids, the troublemaking kids, etc. If there was any name for the six of them, it was probably the “anti-clique” clique, because they were considered the scraps that the rest of the school had no place for, not fitting in any of the pre-determined stereotypical groups. They were all so very different, but they still got along, accepting each other for what and who they were.

“Yeah, I got pretty lucky today,” Amber continued, “Neither of them gave me a zero like they should’ve; they were generous and gave me a 50 when they saw that I at least tried to fill in some of the answers. So, my letter grade didn’t drop…yay.” She didn’t mind telling her friends this information; they all knew she was struggling in school, anyway. They didn’t think less of her for it, though they did often wonder why her academic performance was so poor. They all had wanted to ask at some point or another, but never did. Even if they did, she’d tell a lie anyway.

“Oh shit!” Mason spoke all of a sudden. He was looking at something on his laptop, which he usually did during lunch break. Amber, Devon, Tia, Jeff, and Max all looked towards him. “Oh…haha…sorry,” he chuckled when he noticed their eyes had fallen upon him, “Just…something on here.” He pointed at the laptop. With that, he went back to typing away.

“What are you looking at now, dude?” Max asked.

“I’m roleplaying,” Mason answered, “Zenith Y. Jones is being chased by zombie priests right now, and so I have to defeat them.”

“Zombie priests sound cool,” Devon spoke, “But, who is Zenith whatever-you-said?”

“My character,” informed Mason, “He’s a collage biology professor from Las Vegas with a severe peanut allergy and an obsession with collecting stamps. He has an ex-wife named Franny who’s addicted to plastic surgery, and he’s got two kids, both of which are video game addicts. Zenith is the hero; he and one of his students are the world’s only hope in the zombie apocalypse. So, I have to defeat the zombies that are on my tail, you see.”

“That sounds pretty epic,” said Devon, “Can I join your roleplaying thing?”

“Yeah, we have a few openings,” Mason told him, typing away, “I’ll email the link tonight. As long as you don’t mind being a female character; that’s all we got left.”

“Uh…I’ll think about it,” responded Devon, sounding unsure.

“You mean you’re not out in cyber land saving the world from the evil Radishman51?” Max began to laugh.

“We’re on break right now,” Mason sighed, not too happy with the way Max was undermining his activities, “We roleplay during breaks. We’re back to destroying that jerks life in…” he checked the clock at the bottom corner of the computer screen, “Five minutes. Now let me focus for a while, alright? It’s getting kind of intense.”

“Intense,” Max muttered, “Roleplaying getting intense. Have you heard anything so ridiculous?”

“Let him play his games, it means a lot to him,” Tia spoke, barely above a whisper.

“Sis, did you say something?” Devon asked his sibling, not catching what she said since she was so quiet. She quickly shook her head, not wanting to repeat herself.

“No, you said something,” Devon pushed.

“N-no,” was all that came from her in response.

“Hey, you guys, guess what I’m getting in the mail today.” Jeff changed the subject, excitedly.

“A big, giant-” Devon glanced over at his sister. He was about to say something dirty, but decided against it. “Never mind.”

“Something I probably don’t care about,” Max guessed.

“Well…yeah,” Jeff rejoined, “It’s nothing you’d be interested in, Max.”

“Probably something that requires reading,” Max grunted. Jeff nodded. “Boo,” replied Max in distaste.

“However, I think a certain little lady at this table would be interested in it,” Jeff sang, motioning towards Amber, who was too busy consuming a pile of ketchup-smothered French fries to notice. For some reason, the fries tasted especially delicious that day. Or, it could’ve just been the fact that she was really hungry. The oatmeal from that morning had worn off hours ago.

“Haha, she’s not listening to you,” laughed Devon.

“Am,” Max called her name, nudging her.

“Hmm?” was all she could say, mouth full of food, as she looked up. She swallowed and reached for her milk. Max pointed at Jeff. She looked at Jeff as she drank.

“Today, I’m getting Giant Size X-Men number one in mint condition that I won in an online auction,” the town comic book geek cheered, “Plus a copy of Action Comics number one . It’s legit, too…from 1938, no lies. The very comic that introduced the world to Superman.”

“1938? I didn’t know comics existed back then,” Devon stated.

Amber whistled, impressed. “Wow, that’s great, dude,” she smiled. She was happy for him, but wished she could have cool stuff like that of her own, too.

“You can borrow the copy of Action Comics if you want, Am,” Jeff offered, “Just be careful. It’s probably fragile due to old age.”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Amber wanted to take him up on his offer, she really did. However, she figured it probably wouldn’t be best if she borrowed it. If she took it home to read, there was always the risk of Delia up and deciding to go in Amber’s room and destroy something of hers just to be cruel. If Delia stumbled upon it, she’d probably put it in the paper shredder or set it on fire or something. It seemed preposterous, but it was a possibility. If that were to happen, Amber wouldn’t know what to do. She’d forever feel guilty for not taking better care of Jeff’s stuff, and she wouldn’t know how to begin to make it up to him. It was right then that she mentally decided that she wouldn’t bother bringing it up to him, and if Jeff offered, she’d make up some excuse not to take it.

“Dorks,” Max teased the two of them.

“Shut up,” Amber commanded playfully, lightly punching him in the arm. Or, at least, she thought she had done it lightly.

“Ow! Too hard! That was too damn hard. I was just kidding, Amber, jeeze. No need to get violent up in here,” Max complained.

“Oh, you’re such a big baby, Max,” Devon chuckled, “That wasn’t a hard punch at all.”

“Then, why don’t you let her punch you in the arm and see how you like it.”

“I can probably take a punch better than you, wuss,” Devon smirked. Amber stuck out her tongue like a little kid at Max before returning to eating.

“Oh, okay, yeah link me to it,” Mason randomly interjected, out of nowhere. He had on a headset with a microphone attached to it. On his screen was some dude with purple hair and terrible face acne wearing a Bauhaus tee shirt. They were video chatting.

“What are you doing?” Max questioned him, “Are you talking to someone?”

“Yeah hold on, Romero,” Mason said to the guy on screen. He then looked at Max and hissed slightly, “Shush. I’m video chatting. Important internet activist stuff. You wouldn’t understand. Let me work.” Max just rolled his eyes as Mason returned to his video chat. Out of all of their friends, Max was the least tolerant of Mason’s strange internet obsession. He couldn’t help it; sometimes it just annoyed him. No one spoke for a while, with the exception of Mason talking to Romero. Everyone was eating their food. “Juice. I need juice. Someone juice me,” Mason was now talking to his friends at the table.

“Eww, I’m not going to juice you,” Devon acted disgusted, making a gross joke out of Mason’s statement.

“You know what I mean. One of you, make yourselves useful and get me a juice. I can’t get up right now.”

“Not it,” Devon, Max, and Jeff said at the same time.

“Not it,” Amber spoke up, a bit too late.

“Haha,” Jeff laughed, pointing at Amber, “You have to get him juice.”

“Nuh-uh,” she argued, “Tia didn’t say anything. She has to do it.”

“Oh, no no no, you know the rules we all pre-established when the school year began and we ended up choosing this as our lunch table,” Devon began, tapping the table.

“Dude, we didn’t choose this table. What are you talking about?” Jeff interrupted.

“Yeah,” Max agreed, “We all originally wanted to sit up there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the platform that was on the west side of the cafeteria. Three steps led up to it, and it was full of tables. There were only six empty seats on the populated platform; all six of them surrounding a large, round table.

“Remember, we went to sit there on the first day of school, and the upperclassmen kicked us out,” Tia added in a hurried, shy mumble.

“And this was the only table left down here, so…here we are,” Jeff finished the story.

“I still think that’s bullcrap,” Devon complained, standing up, “That whole high school hierarchy junk is total bullcrap. We lowerclassmen have just as much rights as everyone else, and I say we rise up and smash the high school caste system once and for all, and…”

“No one cares, Devon,” Mason interrupted, looking up from his laptop, “Stop trying to make some big speech. Sit down unless you’re going to get me juice.”

“I’m not getting you juice,” Devon protested, sitting down, “Amber is supposed to be getting it.”

“Juice me,” he ordered, looking at her, but he had a playful tone in his voice.

“I just want to eat,” Amber whined, “Tia is the one. She didn’t say anything.”

“Like I was trying to say before, you know the rules,” Devon began to explain to her, “When we picked this table…ended up having to take this as our lunch table, we all decided that whenever Mason wants something and is too much of a lazy doofus to get it himself-”

“Hey,” interrupted Mason, “I’m busy.”

“-That whoever says ‘not it’ last, or doesn’t say it at all has to be the one to get it,” Devon finished. Amber was about to open her mouth. “And,” he continued, stopping her, “That whenever I say ‘not it’, I’m speaking on both my and Tia’s behalf at the same time. We established this.”

“Yeah, Am, he’s right,” Jeff concurred. Max nodded in agreement.

“Fine,” she grumbled, “I’ll get the dumb juice for dumb Mason.”

“You have video proof of that?” Mason almost shrieked in excitement, talking to his friend on the computer still, “Show me. Show me.”

“He didn’t even hear you call him dumb,” Max chuckled.

Amber got up and went over to Mason, holding her hand out. “What?” he asked her when he finally acknowledged her presence.

“Money,” she grunted.

“Can you just pick up the tab for me, Am-ski?” he requested, “You know I’m good for it.” Amber rolled her eyes at that comment. If anything, Mason was not good for it.

“You still owe me from the last two times,” she informed him.

“Lowerclassmen can’t sit here,” Devon mimicked the senior girl that told them that back when the school year had started. He was still going on about the fact that they couldn’t sit on the platform. He looked at the empty table and six empty chairs up there angrily. “And to think, my huge ass-” he lifted out of his seat a little and smacked his own bottom, “-could be sitting in one of those seats right now.”

“Let it go, Devon,” Jeff warned.

“I swear, one of these days, we’re all going to sit up there like a bunch of bosses, and we’re not going to give a fu-”

“Only when we’re all upperclassmen,” Max interrupted, “Which is two years from now for Tia, and one for the rest of us. Unless you want all those jocks up there to rip you a new one.” Devon just crossed his arms ad sulked, knowing there wasn’t much he could do.

“Mason,” Amber moaned, “I can’t keep buying you stuff and have you not pay me back. I’m not made of money.”

“Oh, come on, I’m good for it.”

“That’s the thing, you’re not,” she stated, “Besides, I don’t even know if I have enough to…”

“I’ll pay you back for it and the other times, too. Jeeze, what’s the big deal? Why are you always so tight with your money? You have two jobs.”

“The big deal is…” Amber stopped mid-sentence. “The big deal is that I can’t afford to just buy people stuff when they say they’ll pay me back just to have them never keep their promise,” she thought, “The big deal is that even though I have two part-time jobs, I have little cash because all of the money I worked for and earned goes to my stepmother, who uses it to pay bills and go shopping with. The big deal is that the only money of mine I’m allowed to have is what she lets me have to buy lunch at school. You’re lucky that I lie to her and tell her it costs more than it does, so I end up having some spare money to spend on extra stuff. I usually end up spending my spare cash on all of you guys, but at least everyone else at this table has the decency to pay me back, unlike you. If you have enough money to have a laptop, an MP3 player, a tablet, a $200 a month cell phone plan, a computer at home with a printer, as well as all those other fancy gizmos you’re always flaunting in front of us, then you can afford juice. That’s what the big deal is and that’s why I’m so tight with my money.” She so desperately wanted to tell him that, too, but just held her tongue. Mason was a good friend, but he could be a little…insensitive sometimes. She just walked off and went in the lunch line to get a carton of juice.

“So anyway, like I was saying, if we can just create a site with archives of all the messed up junk he’s done…” Mason jabbered on and on to his purple-haired friend on the screen, “And promote it by getting ad space on other websites…” Amber came back, placing the juice next to the laptop. Before she could sit back down, he cleared his throat.

“Something wrong?” she asked him.

“This is orange juice.”

“So?”

“I don’t like orange. Trade it out for an apple one, will you?”

“But…”

“Be a peach and get me an apple juice,” he requested, “Thanks.”

“The lunch lady won’t let me swap it,” she complained, “You know that once a student walks off with it, they can’t take it back up there. I can’t get you another one. I’m out of money.”

“Mason, just take the juice and deal with it,” Devon spat, “Sheesh.”

Amber crossed her arms. Sometimes Mason could be so upsetting. “Just be glad I bought you one,” she muttered. Soon, Tia was standing up and walking past them. She went in the line, coming back with an apple juice, which she placed roughly on the table.

“Thank you.” Mason told her.

“Thanks, Tia,” Amber grinned at her. Tia shrugged and sat down next to her brother.

Amber returned to her seat, a little bit angry. She didn’t really for Mason’s attitude that day.