Lunch time.
Also known as: the only reason I didn't drop out of school.
I had my usual.
A mega cheesy burger.
Glorious. Beautiful. Life-saving.
I sneaked to the back of the school like a professional ninja—quiet, hidden, peaceful.
I sat down.
Took a deep breath.
Lifted my burger.
"This is my moment," I whispered.
I opened my mouth—
—and it was gone.
"HEY—?!"
I jumped up so fast I almost left my soul behind and ran after the thief.
"COME BACK WITH MY HAPPINESS!"
I turned the corner—
—and there he was.
Jake.
Of course.
My personal villain.
He took a HUGE bite.
Cheese. Sauce. My tears.
Then—
he threw the rest of it at me.
I froze.
Processing.
Slowly.
"WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?" I asked, voice shaking with pure disbelief.
He smirked.
That stupid, annoying, punchable smirk.
"I'm so glad you're here," he said lazily.
"I wouldn't want anyone to see me with a goat."
…
A goat.
Again.
I stared at him.
"I am CUTER than you," I snapped.
Then—without thinking—
I punched him.
Straight in the stomach.
He winced. "—Ugh!"
"Yes!" I pointed at him. "That's for my burger!"
He straightened slowly, still smirking like he enjoyed it.
"I missed you too."
I grabbed whatever sad remains of my lunch were left and turned to leave.
Dignity? Hanging by a thread.
Hunger? Still very present.
I took two steps—
—and bumped into someone.
CRASH.
My tray hit the ground like my hopes.
I looked up.
Mark.
Of course.
Tall. Calm. Glasses perfectly placed like they had a better life than mine.
He looked down at me.
Not annoyed.
Just… observing.
I froze.
Why am I like this?
"Uh—sorry," I mumbled quickly, standing up like nothing happened.
Abort. Escape. Disappear.
I turned—
But no.
Jake grabbed my arm and yanked me back.
"Wait," he said loudly.
I closed my eyes.
No. No. No.
"This," he announced like he was hosting a show, "is the ugly goat I told you about."
I inhaled slowly.
"My sister. Ayana."
Kill me.
Just end me here.
"Nice to meet you, Ayana," Mark said calmly.
Hearing my name from him?
My heart did something weird.
I hated it.
He stretched his hand out.
I stared at it.
Then at Jake.
Then—
I brushed Jake's hand off me.
Hard.
"First of all," I snapped, voice sharp, "stop touching me like you own me."
Jake raised a brow.
I turned slightly—now noticing the others.
Liam.
Leaning against the wall, clearly enjoying this.
Ethan.
Standing there, quiet, watching everything like it was a documentary.
Great.
Audience.
Perfect.
I crossed my arms, glaring.
"And you—" I pointed at Jake, then gestured toward them. "—your little fan club too."
Liam let out a low laugh. "Fan club?"
"Yes," I shot back. "Blond chaos, silent judge, and walking calculator."
Mark blinked slightly.
Liam grinned wider.
Ethan's expression didn't change—but I swear his eyes sharpened just a little.
I huffed.
"And for the record—" I added, stepping back, "if this is what rich boys do—steal food and act like it's funny—then congratulations."
I pointed at my ruined lunch on the floor.
"You're all very impressive."
Jake scoffed. "You're being dramatic."
"I'm being hungry," I snapped.
Then I turned.
"And I don't shake hands with people who watch crimes happen and say nothing."
That one was for Mark.
I didn't even look back.
I walked away.
Angry.
Hungry.
And slightly proud.
Behind me, I heard Liam laugh again.
"Your sister's interesting."
Jake muttered something I didn't care to hear.
Ethan said nothing.
Of course.
By the time I got home—
I was DONE.
I threw my bag.
One shoe flew.
I didn't care where it landed.
I collapsed on the couch.
"Peace," I whispered.
Then—
"Ayana! Come help me!"
…
Peace left.
"Coming, Mom!" I shouted, dragging myself to the kitchen.
Mrs. May smiled when I walked in.
Warm. Soft.
Home.
Then—
of course—
Jake walked in like he owned oxygen again.
"Hi, Mom," he said, grabbing water.
She smiled. "How was school?"
I paused.
"…School ended an hour ago," I said flatly. "Why are you here now?"
He didn't even look at me.
"I got into a fight. What's your problem?"
Oh.
Of course you did.
Mom tapped his shoulder gently. "My son… always trouble."
He smirked at me.
Then left.
Like a criminal escaping justice.
I crossed my arms.
"Why does he get to relax while I'm here working?" I asked.
Mom's smile softened.
"Because I want you to survive on your own," she said quietly. "Not depend on anyone."
That hit.
Hard.
"…Like you did?" I asked softly.
She didn't answer immediately.
That was enough.
I exhaled slowly and forced a smile.
"Forget it," I said lightly. "What's for dinner?"
"Fried rice and chicken."
Again.
I smiled anyway. "Perfect."
Because it was.
Because she was.
Later, in my room—
I stared at the ceiling.
Thinking.
Overthinking.
"Why did Dad leave?" I muttered.
"For a woman? For fun? For peace??"
I groaned, covering my face.
"Or maybe he just said, 'this family is too much,' and ran."
I turned my head.
Jake was at the door.
Watching me.
Like I was insane.
"Stop staring," I said.
"You talk to yourself," he replied.
"You fall down stairs," I shot back.
He scoffed and left.
I sighed.
Then smiled slightly.
Because honestly?
I may be chaotic.
I may be weird.
I may be a "goat" in someone's story—
But in mine?
I'm rare.
Like a Pokémon.
Hard to catch.
But worth it.