Nachos. One of the few lunch items that many kids could actually stand. After all, it was simple and easy. The nacho chips tasted okay, even if they were a little stale sometimes. The cheese was probably not healthy. But it was so runny and gooey, and tasted so rich; and the way it made the nachos soften after a few minutes was how some kids found a little piece of Zen. The meat was usually the tentative ingredient. Many a child would go down the lane: “just cheese, please.” The only reason to say please was solely for the sake of the rhyme, otherwise the politeness would go on neglected.
Emeral was one of the rebels in this case. She didn't mind the little bits of crumbled soy that so many convinced themselves to be ground beef. Her little blue tray also had two corn-bread rolls, pear slices, and a carton of milk. She carried it out the other side of the pick-up lane, and started the task of looking for a place to sit.
She almost felt like she was going to eat alone.
”Hey,” greeted the panda. “Spot over there,” he pointed.
”You bring your own lunch?” The tigress asked, following him.
He held up the white paper bag. “Leftovers,” he replied. He led her to the sideways table, toward the far end. He took the seat on the outside, and she took the seat opposite him, her back toward the wall.
“So what've you got that's leftovers?” She asked, her tray clacking as she set it down on the wooden picnic table.
The bag crinkled as he unfurled the top, reaching in. He coaxed out a lidded plastic container more meant to store the leftovers in than to eat from. “Chow mein,” he replied, also retrieving a baggy of the complementing noodles. He reached in again, and pulled out a spoon along with another crinkling package. “You want this?” He asked, gently letting the package fall to her tray.
”Your fortune cookie?” She questioned, picking it up. “You don't want it?”
He shrugged, pulling off the sealed lid of his meal and dumping the noodles in. “They get old after a while. Grandpa has boxes of the things, like there's going to be a shortage any day and he might need to live off them.”
The tigress giggled. “Am I a bad girl if I eat it first?” She asked, tugging on the sides of the plastic to pull the seam apart.
The bear chuckled, stirring his meal. “Only if you eat the fortune, too, I guess,” he commented as she broke apart the cookie to pull the paper out.
They both began to chew, she crunching on the cookie and he crunching on the chow mein noodles.
”Thanks for the cookie,” she added after she finished it.
”Sure. What's the fortune?” He asked.
She picked up the paper, holding it up to catch the light from the window behind her. “It says...” She read it slowly, the letters fidgety: “Beware of Dash, will lead to trouble.—Uh... it's kinda hard to read, may not be reading it right,” she admitted.
”Lemme see,” he took the little slip of paper. He looked at it, while chewing another bite. “Mm... you read it right,” he said, before swallowing. “It's just written in broken-English. Happens all the time.” He returned it.
”What's it mean, then? And why'd they capitalize the D in Dash?”
He shrugged. “They capitalize some of the words for emphasis. Far as what it means... sounds like a weird translation of 'Haste makes Waste,' to me.”
She set the paper down on her tray with a snicker. “Yeah, sounds like a Confucius Say.”
”Confucius Say,” Panda began, in a surprisingly good accent, “Baseball all wrong! Batter with four balls not can walk.”
The tigress smiled, and then began giggling. It was even worse when she looked at the bear and he flashed her a nonchalant little smile, causing her to burst into another fit of laughter.
He laughed along. “I made you snort,” he pointed out.
”I know,” she said, almost whimpering, wiping tears from her eyes. “Hooohmygosh,” she said in a calming manner, trying to settle herself.
”You don't have to pretend like I'm that funny,” he joked, pulling a spoon full of rice, with a water chestnut and baby corn to his muzzle.
She smiled, finally picking up something of her own meal. She poised the corn-bread roll. “I needed a good laugh,” she reasoned. “Today's been... really stressful,” she admitted, biting into it.
”I bet,” he agreed. “Sucks when family's sick,” he remarked.
”Mm-ckgh!” She grimaced, the comment causing her to inadvertently try to inhale the bit of bread. She coughed with her mouth closed, the air escaping through her nose as she held her hand over her muzzle. She raised her chin up, gently rapping at the manubrium of her sternum to aide the lump of corn-bread down.
”You okay?” Panda asked, leaning on the table on his palms. The kids that were sitting on the next table over looked at them.
Emeral managed to gulp it down, and gasped. “I'm fine, I'm fine,” she said, breathing heavily. “I just...”
Panda sat back. “That's why I don't eat that bread by itself, unless I've got plenty of butter. It's too dry for me.”
The tigress glanced at the next table over, waving her hand to show she was fine. She could tell her face was a little red, but tried to ignore it. “Um... Hey, Pan?” She asked.
”Hm?” He looked up, and then hastily tried to collect a long noodle that dangled from his lips.
”Do you... wanna know a secret?”
He swallowed, and dipped his spoon in again. He lifted it, and let it pause just before his muzzle. “Nope,” he said, and with that the spoon disappeared within.
She looked down at her nachos, which had gotten pretty soft from the cheese by now. She lifted one up, pulling another one along with it. She wiggled it, let the excess fall, and the chip disappeared into her muzzle, leaving a bit of cheese on the corner of her mouth.
”If it was any of my business,” he said, his voice low so no one would hear; “you would have said something then. And it's not like I'm telling the whole school.”
”Excuse me?”
Panda's ears flicked, and he twisted to look over his shoulder.
”Can we sit with you guys?” Asked Kimberly.
The bear shrugged.
”Sure,” Emeral said, scooting a bit to make room. “Did we take your usual spot?” She asked.
”No,” the mousette replied. “Just... wanted to sit by different people, to change things up,” she smiled, a bit nervously, and glanced at the dalmatian.
William had gotten the lunchable-style option, while Kim had gotten the nachos, just-cheese-please-style.
They ate in silence for a few moments, for time was limited and the more quickly they finished the more time they could have to talk and visit. It was also a little awkward considering the mousette and dalmatian had never deliberately sat by them before.
Panda's spoon scraped the last bits of chow mein from the sides of the container, and he shoveled it into his maw. He took a gulp of the green tea in his water bottle, before turning away and covering his mouth to mask an otherwise loud burp. “Buh,” he patted his chest. “That was good. Better than school lunch.”
”Mm!” Kimberly said, swallowing. “But the nachos are sooo yummy and cheesy!”
Emeral chuckled. “Of course you'd like cheese,” she joked.
The mousette gave her a look. “I can like cheese if you can like tuna,” she retorted, sticking her tongue out.
”I don't actually like tuna,” the tigress replied, genuinely.
”You okay, Will?” Panda asked.
The dalmatian flinched. “Um... y-yeah,” he muttered, picking up a few slices of bologna and munching on them.
”You're awfully quiet,” the bear pointed out.
”He's always that way...” Kimberly said, in a hushed way, as if to try and keep the dalmatian from hearing her. “Hey, um... does anyone know when we get the test results back?” She inquired, changing to subject.
”I think Ket told me,” the tigress spoke up, “we'd get them back a couple weeks before school's out.”
”Oh, okay.” The mousette kicked her feet against the bar underneath the seat. “I guess there's no sense worrying about it, then. Right, William?” She said with a smile.
”Uh... uh-huh,” he mumbled, and then reached for his milk.
”After all,” Kimberly continued, as William tugged open the carton. “Ms. Hupp did a really good job preparing us.”
William lifted the carton up high, to drink quite a lot.
”If you think I did a good job, Will, I—”
A silence lulled over the cafeteria, and dozens of heads whipped round as a squeaky squeal erupted and startled the room.
”Augh!” Panda gagged, hastily standing up and attempting to get away from the foul-smelling liquid that spread over the table. He looked at Kimberly, and then looked away.
”Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh,” the mousette muttered over and over, looking down at her torso in disgust.
”It's okay, it's okay, just stay still,” the tigress insisted, standing up and passing by behind. “We need paper towels!” She shouted, moving to the other side of the table to William. “C'mon, c'mon,” she ushered, helping him to stand up. She helped him keep steady, bracing him with both hands, “let's get to the nurse.”
As she slowly walked the dalmatian out the door, the conversations started up again. “Everything's okay,” she insisted to the dalmatian. When he paused, she looked at him carefully. “You feel like you're gonna throw up again?”
He covered his mouth, tears leaking out his eyes. He shook his head.
”Let's keep going,” she encouraged.
The canine began to whimper.
”It's okay, it happens,” the tigress consoled. “Did your stomach feel ishy, or did you feel sick this morning or last night?” She asked, as they passed the water-fountains.
The dalmatian shook his head again, clear liquid dripping out his nostrils.
”Okay,” she opened the door to the nurse's office. The clinic assistant wasn't there to greet them. “Mrs. Panesia?” Emeral called out, guiding William to the circular table and pulling out a chair.
”Hello?” Called the voice of the nurse, as she stepped out of her office. The ferret looked at the two. “Do you have a slip?” She questioned.
Emeral shook her head. “No, we just came from lunch. He threw up,” she reported, gesturing to the pup.
William sniffled.
”Uh oh,” the nurse went to the counter and retrieved the thermometer. She pulled out the stick with the plastic film already covering it, and held it up. “Put this under your tongue,” she instructed.
The dalmatian did so, grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of the metal rod pressing against the frenulum of his tongue.
”He says he didn't feel any nausea today, and I haven't seen anything indicating he was sick at all today in class,” Emeral remarked. “It just happened so suddenly—” The tigress was distracted by the passing of a person by the window next to the door. The handle clicked, and the door slowly drifted open.
Crying could be heard, and the door swung away to reveal Kimberly, and a custodian with a roll of paper towels.
William looked away.
”Oh okay,” the nurse said in a way that indicated she was beginning to realize this was a little bigger than she expected it to be. “Go into the restroom, hun,” the thermometer beeped, “I'll be there to help you in a sec.” She looked at the readout along with the tigress.
The custodian led the mousette to the restroom, opening the door for her.
”No fever,” Emeral declared.
”Okay, then,” the nurse smiled at the tigress. “What would you do next?”
”Uhm...” the tigress thought for a second, rubbing her forehead. “If it happened suddenly, it must've been something...” She looked up. “Oh! You were drinking milk,” she recalled.
”There was a carton on the floor,” the custodian said, after leaving the door to the restroom ajar. “Smelled rancid, want me to go get it?” He offered.
”Please,” the nurse replied. She motioned to the resting area. “Emmy, can you go in there and—in the bottom drawer of the counter in the corner—get me a pair of sweat pants and a shirt?”
The tigress nodded, “on it.” She darted into the room, but when she saw one of the curtains was closed she tried to be more quiet. She went to the set of drawers, which was also a counter that had a few things on it. Crouching down, she opened the bottom drawer, and saw several sets of sweat pants and blank shirts. The clothes were for those cases like Kimberly was caught in, where their clothes were soiled and they needed something to change into.
Because most times it was a younger child that wet their pants, there were only a couple of medium shirts, and only a single pair of medium sweat pants. The tigress picked these out and stood up, closing the drawer with her shoe. She went back into the main room.
The nurse held out her arms, “thank you,” she said. “Could you keep an eye on William for a sec?” She asked, heading to the restroom door.
”Sure,” Emeral nodded, and pulled a seat out next to the pup.
When the nurse opened the door, they could still hear crying. The door wasn't shut all the way as the nurse went in, and they could just about hear the nurse talking with Kimberly.
Emeral watched William, but didn't look at him directly.
He sniffled, and rubbed at his eye with a knuckle.
”Gross, gross, gross, gross,” Kimberly whined from the bathroom.
”It's okay, just hold still and it won't be too bad. I'll help clean you up after we get it off.”
Suddenly, William started huffing.
Emeral quickly poised as she thought he might throw up again, but then became even more concerned when it sounded like he was having trouble breathing. At first she thought he was hyperventilating, but then she realized he was breathing in through his nose.
The chair screeched as she stood up and skipped to the restroom, “Mrs. Penesia—oh, I'm sorry,” she said with embarrassment as she clapped her hand over her eyes once she saw that Kimberly was in mid-change. “Uhm, something's wrong with Will. He's having trouble breathing.”
”Be right back,” the nurse said to the mousette. “Don't put anything on just yet,” she warned as she went back into the room, proper.
Emeral shut the door almost all the way and spoke through the crack, “Sorry, Kim, I didn't see anything.”
”It's okay,” the mousette replied, just as embarrassed. “We're both girls. What's wrong with Will?”
”Just a sec,” the tigress said, and closed the door a little more. “Is he okay?” She whispered.
”We're fine,” the nurse said calmly. “Breathe through your mouth, that's it,” she coached the pup. “Do you reverse-sneeze often?” She asked.
Emeral saw he shook his head.
”It's all right. You're not in trouble or anything, and if you feel like you have to throw up again just try to do it in the trash can, okay?”
”He's okay, don't worry.” Emeral relayed. She heard the mousette tear a few paper towels, and the sink turn on.
The door to the nurse's station opened. “Got it,” the custodian said. “Sorry it took so long, wanted to make sure I got some of the milk that was in it, too.” He walked to the sink and set the plastic bag down in the basin. “I'm gonna go finish cleaning up, let me know if you need anything else.”
”Thanks, Ricky” the nurse said to the wolf. “Emmy, don't open that, hun.”
”I'm not,” the tigress said, using her hand to tilt the milk carton in the baggy. “This carton's expired,” she announced. “Looks like... Monday?”
”Hmm...” The nurse thought, resting her hand on William's shoulder. “I'm sorry hun,” she said to the quiet boy. “Next time, double-check the date and let one of the lunch ladies know before you open the carton, okay?” She patted him, and stood up. “I'll finish with Kimmy, then we'll give your parents a call, okay?”
The pup let out a surprised whine. “M-M-My parents?” He asked. “Am I in trouble?”
”Nah, Will, you're good,” Emeral said, reassuringly. “Mrs. Panesia's just gonna let your mom or dad know.” She leaned in and whispered, “might even get to go home if you play your cards right.”
”Emmy,” the nurse admonished.
”What if... someone gave it to me?” The dalmatian asked in a sheepishly hushed voice.
The nurse hesitated. “What do you mean?” She asked.
”I...” William hooked his shoe on the chair leg. “Uhm... n-never mind...” He looked down.
The nurse thought for a moment, but then opened the door, deciding against keeping the other girl waiting in her underwear.
