Apollo entered the cafeteria and looked for a table not occupied by students. If it were up to him, he would’ve eaten his lunch inside the school library. That way, he could enjoy reading his Black Shadow comic book without hearing about how much of a “nerd” he was for reading them. Unfortunately, food or drinks weren’t allowed inside the library, and if you were caught smuggling them in, it was an automatic three-day suspension. Apollo often thought of intentionally breaking those rules, but spending time at home with Marcella on her off days wasn’t a tolerable plan B.
All the black students congregated at the northwest end of the cafeteria, taking up several of the tables for themselves. Although it would’ve been nice to sit down and break bread with his people, Apollo remembered his incident with Jermaine in ninth grade, claiming he wasn’t a “real nigga” to eat lunch with them.
“Where’d this waste yute come from?” Jermaine had said, screwing up his face. There was something cold and aggressive found in his voice. Every conversation around the table immediately stopped as Apollo rested his tray of poutine. They all looked at him as if he was lost.
“Nobody wants you around here, fam. Kick rocks.” Jermaine nudged his head toward the double doors behind him.
“What, I can’t sit here?” Apollo had asked, uncertain of what the big deal was.
“Ayo, whose mans is this?” Jermaine looked around the table, pointing at Apollo with his thumb.
“I think that’s Odion’s brother,” another boy from the table had said, mean-mugging Apollo like he was ready to fight him.
“Hang on a sec,” a girl at the table had said, “aren’t you the kid who shit himself in the hallway a couple months back?” The entire table broke out into hearty laughter as Apollo wriggled his mouth from the embarrassment. It wasn’t something he could shake off because it did happen. The meatloaf Marcella cooked the night before wreaked havoc on Apollo’s stomach, and when an event like shitting yourself at school happens, word quickly spreads around like a virus. You then become the laughingstock at school and a meme on social media.
“Take your Oreo cookie lookin’ ass on out of here before you shit yourself again.” Jermain chuckled. “Real niggas don’t shit themselves at school.”
“Quit calling me a ‘nigga.’ Do I look like a slave to you?”
Jermaine stood to his feet, and Apollo tilted his head back to look into his eyes. “You will be if you don’t take your shitty lookin’ ass on out of here.” He balled his hands into fists, and a rush of excitement swelled around the table, the atmosphere quickly spreading into a net of hostility. Jermaine swiped his arm across the table, spilling Apollo’s lunch of fries, gravy, and cheese curds all over the floor. A roar of praise and applause erupted around them as Apollo fought not to lash out and do something that landed him in some serious hot water.
Apollo shook off the memory. That was all in the past. Mama always used to say, “There’s no point in crying over spilt milk. What’s done is done. Time to move on.” She was right.
Apollo looked a few tables down to all the straight-A students. Intellectually, he knew he wasn’t on their level, and even if he tried starting a conversation with them, they would probably look at him as if he were an alien waiting to steal their lunches. I’ll spare myself the embarrassment.
His attention shifted to a group of females in the center row doing what appeared to be a new coordinated dance routine in front of one of their smartphones. That’s being uploaded to TikTok for sure. Apollo cringed. He found an empty table at the far end corner of the cafeteria and shrugged off his backpack, reaching for the apple butter sandwiches he made this morning.
After devouring both sandwiches and a few slices of his Pink Lady apple, he pulled out his Black Shadow comic book. Nothing was better than getting lost in the world of Demetrius Miller. Understanding his deep sense of justice, what he did to instill fear in bad guys whenever he became the Black Shadow, and how his morals shaped him as a superhero.
Unfortunately, society viewed him as a reckless vigilante who went above and beyond the law. However, many people failed to realize that Demetrius Miller never harmed the innocent. He only killed criminals and supervillains, but due to his radical beliefs, he was vilified by the media, causing the public to fear and hate him. Despite that hate, he still did what he believed was best for his city and the world. Only if our world had a Demetrius Miller, there’d be no crime.
A few mumblings and giggles came from the table across from him on his right-hand side. Apollo looked up as he turned a page and saw Sandra, pointing and whispering something likely foul and untrue to her friends. He narrowed his eyes a little.
For a girl who could easily pass for a dwarf, she always had something stupid to say. She even went as far as creating an Instagram post wishing he’d die of cancer so that she could throw a party on top of his grave. According to Odion, her post got flagged and removed from the platform.
“Shitty-brief!” Sandra said, placing strands of her flaming red hair behind her ear.
Sandra’s taunts pierced through Apollo, igniting a storm of indignation. Not again. The urge to retaliate surged, but the looming consequences made him bite his tongue despite the fury boiling within. A short moment later, a long strip of a french fry hit the table, sliding over to where he had his comic book. “Quit doing that,” Apollo said, picking up his comic. “Why you throwing food at me? I didn’t do anything to you.”
“Why you throwing food at me?” She made a face implying he was retarded. “Shut the fuck up,” she said. “Why don’t you put down that dumbass comic book and go wash your ass?” Sandra and her friends giggled.
Apollo stood up and grabbed his backpack, shoving his comic book inside. He didn’t need to put up with this.
“Uh-oh! I think Shitty-brief’s going to shit himself again,” Sandra said, laughing. “Sure you don’t want any diapers?” All of her friends joined in on the laughter.
Apollo stared at her, eyes oozing venom, curling both hands into fists. He would’ve placed a nice, fat ring around her eye if she weren’t a girl.
“What, you wanna hit me?” She pointed and laughed in his face. “Go on then, I dare you,” she said. “How does it feel being a literal piece of shit nobody likes?” She giggled again. “Even your own brother doesn’t like you! Do you know how many times he’s told me in class he wished you were dead? Like, how does that make you feel?” Sandra laughed harder this time, holding her stomach. Apollo’s nose steamed with irritation, heart clawing at his chest. “Do us both a favor and kill yourself. The world would be a much better place without you.” She worked her mouth for a moment and spat hard at his feet. “That’s what everyone at school thinks of you.” She blew him a kiss and turned her attention back toward her friends.
Apollo stared at her saliva, unable to understand how someone could carry so much hate in their heart they had feel the need to spit at them. A large part of him wanted to grab her by the throat and shove her face to the ground, where she spat. It’d be hard to say she didn’t deserve it, given her vile misbehavior, but that would’ve resulted in expulsion, and assaulting girls wasn’t his thing.
“Hey Cassandra,” Apollo called her by her full name, knowing she hated that, “the only reason why you hate me is because I asked Isaiah if the rumors about your stank pussy were true. But thanks for letting me know you’re a spitter, not a swallower. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Apollo smiled and blew her a kiss back.
Sandra’s expression quickly turned murderous as she lunged at him with a fork in her hand, yelling obscenities the entire cafeteria could hear. Apollo grabbed her wrists and watched her face strain with effort as he spun her around off-balance, shoving her as lightly as he could to separate and gather space. Sandra’s head snapped back and smacked against the wall with a thud that didn’t sound healthy.
“Oh, SHIT!” a student yelled in the background. It sounded like someone from the black section of the cafeteria with how animated their voice was.
Sandra slid to her knees, eyes sealed closed, her face moist with tears. With the way her body tremored along the floor, it was at that moment Apollo knew he fucked up. He briefly glanced at his hands, surprised by his strength. He hoped that wasn’t blood on her palms as she held the back of her head, bawling. All of Sandra’s friends rushed to her aid, cutting venomous looks at Apollo.
“You’re such a fucking asshole,” one of them said, pulling a napkin from her back pocket.
Apollo reluctantly looked around the cafeteria. Various expressions stared at him: shock, disappointment, anger, disgust. On Mama’s grave, he swore he wasn’t trying to hurt her even though he’d be lying if he said she didn’t deserve it. He had no idea he pushed her that hard.
“What happened over here?” Mrs. Cunningham asked, arriving at the scene. “Are you all right?” She kneeled, tending to Sandra’s aid.
“This asshole pushed her against the wall,” Napkin girl said.
“Tamara, watch your language.” Mrs. Cunningham took a look at the crowd that formed around them. “Which one?”
“This idiot.” Tamara pointed to him.
Apollo pursed his lips. I’m definitely getting suspended for this.
“Why am I not surprised.” Mrs. Cunningham’s pale blue eyes pierced a nickel-sized hole through Apollo’s forehead as she rose to her feet. “First, you were late for my class, and now this.” She made a disapproving sound with her mouth and shook her head. “Grab your bag and head straight to the office. I’ll see to it the principal is notified of this incident.”
“Look, I was trying to—”
“The office. Now.” She pointed in the direction. Apollo fixed his backpack over his shoulders, kissing his teeth. “And lose the attitude.” He heard her say before exiting the cafeteria.
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