People are boring. They’re tools you can use; to do your homework, to comfort you when you’re touch starved, to feed you when you refuse to eat like the others. But more importantly, they’re weak. Everyone has a spot where if you shin kick it hard enough, they stumble. They fall.

I flick my pencil across the table, smirking as it lands in the food of some passerby, watching the look of distraught on her face as she tries to find the culprit. My buddy, Vio, chuckles to himself, and I join in. It was stupid, and I was aware what stereotype we had fit into, but as we lived in the slums of the city, no one tried to make us anything else. We were delinquents. We were poor.

We weren’t wanted.

The girl gives me a glare, and I only wink back, watching her scoff and turn to sit at her table, ponytail bouncing along behind her.

“Reminds me of a horse.” I mumble, more to myself than to anyone, and get a chuckle out of Vio once more. He’d laugh at anything I’d say. Kiss ass. Why did I keep him around, anyway?

I study his appearance, trying not to look too obvious as to draw attention. He was tall, taller than me anyway, 6’0” last time he got measured, which’s been a while.I stood at 5’9”, which didn’t seem like a big deal until you realized Vio always slouched. I wasn’t insecure about it or anything, it just pissed me off.

The lunch bell rings, and I throw on my bag, heading out a back door less guarded by the deans. Vio, who was a lot less inconspicuous, managed to draw attention to the both of us. We ignore it, knowing the dean would lose interest in the likes of us. We weren’t prized pupils.

“Wanna head to the railroad?” He asks, and I shrug, thinking about heading home and napping instead.

I pull a bag of chips from my backpack, munching on them loudly as we pass a highway, the cars flying past. In the corner of my eye, I see movement. Big furry movement, like that of a large dog. I quickly turn to look, maybe a dog had gotten in the road, only to see nothing but cars, and an old hairy man looking at me. He waves, and I turn, ignoring him.

Bizarre.

"Did you see that?" I ask, turning to Vio who had this hands shoved in his pockets, music blasting into one of his ears. He looks at me, shrugging as if I had been seeing things.

I hadn't. Maybe he just needs new glasses.

I crumple the chip bag and throw it over my shoulder, shoving my headphones on to drown out the incessant honking.

What a long day.