Heartless - Chapter 9：Lunch

The lunch bell had woken me up from my dream induced sleep. I yawned while stretching my limbs and sighed, it seems like I have forgotten to pack a lunch again. I stood up and headed for the schools cafeteria. Even if you didn’t know where the cafeteria was, you could simply follow the noise of chattering students. It seemed even louder today, they were most likely talking about the new humans that have been admitted to the school. I believe there were seven total, three females and four males. Each of them were chosen for a specific trait or talent that they held.

Entering the vass cafeteria filled with students of all grades and levels, you’d be surprised at how the different races were able to settle their superiority complex. I suppose some of this is due to the school being a sacred ground of truce for all beings. However, no matter how many times one rants about equality, settling your differences aside, we are all the same deep down, their will always be a hidden hierarchy. A person on top of the social ladder and one on the bottom, waiting for people to step on them or become their stepping stools.

I skipped the line of students that were waiting to get their lunches and headed for the small refrigerator by the wall atop the food counter. I took the strawberry smoothie and headed towards the cash register that was being handled by Fiura who was standing on a stool so that she could reach the computer screen.

Her small beady eyes bored into me as I scanned my finger on a small device. I looked up to stare back at her, waiting patiently for her to deduct money from my account. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were to deduct more than she should just to spite others.

“What are you doing still standing there?” she spitted out, after pressing a few buttons on the computer screen, “don’t you have someplace to be?”

And so I left, heading towards my classroom whilst drinking my smoothie. Perhaps her husband has cheated on her again, suppose that always puts people in a bad mood.

Before I reached the classroom, someone came up to me and asked, “you are the Keeper, correct?”

“What is your request?” I asked back, confirming her suspicions.

“The Dean would like to speak to you,” she explained, “I’m not sure what about ma’am.”

“Tell him I have a class this afternoon.”

“Ah, he said that he has already taken care of it.”

“Then I shall be there shortly.”