Lunch With A Stranger | Teen Ink

Lunch With A Stranger

December 29, 2021
By LilyL BRONZE, Placentia, California
LilyL BRONZE, Placentia, California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The lunch cafeteria. A place that teemed with social interactions and people, all the while anxiety-filled individuals ghosted around it as if land mines awaited them. Unfortunately, as the bell rang and the wave of bodies surged into the rather cramped room, even those like Karis were pulled into its current.
Before Karis, a thoroughly reluctant person knew it, she was pacing stiffly in the space between the lunch tables and the door with an already cooling mass of food on the plastic tray in her hands. She knew that if she kept on shuffling around that a teacher would guide her to a table, yet sitting in the corner on the ground was not conventional either, and- hEy, there's only one table left. Time to go.
Despite the feeling of uncomfortableness pressing in like a carbon-dioxide filled blanket, Karis thought her walk to the last table was going pretty well. Then she bumped into someone, panicked, scurried to her table, and was met with a weary-looking girl who slumped into her seat in synchronization with her.
Frozen in time, it was clear that the other party, Paris, had her eyes locked on the floor as she made her way to the table. She hadn’t expected someone else, just as Karis hadn’t either. It seemed as though this was a situation where someone was at fault and, well, Karis was Karis, so she met the girl’s eyes, but still trying to collapse in on herself, her attempt at an apologetic smile turned into a strained grimace.
Immediately, she earned a quiet response. “Sorry. Wait, I mean-yeah.” The girl furrowed her eyebrows and sat rigidly across from Karis.
How does one respond to that? Karis stared off into space, pondering, before realizing that she already made the girl uncomfortable without even saying a word. By now, the suffocating weight of silence ruled the table.
The two were left alone with their thoughts. And each other, technically, but the only conversations happening were the ones with themselves. Karis was occupied with how to escape. Hastily shoving the mush of food on her plate into her mouth, she let her eyes wander into the sea of people and her mind to be filled with the buzz of chatter. Paris, on the other hand, was concerned with how to make the best of this situation. Swirling her fork in her lunch, she focused on its grainy texture and the perpetual ticking of the clock.
The clock was near the exit on the right side of the lunchroom. The girls' table was closest to the lower left exit where the tables were less crowded, making for an easy departure. The library was also in that direction. Karis subconsciously took these details in before listing them back to herself. Is it wrong that I want to leave? Yes. But she probably wants to leave. Right. I’d be doing a morally good thing. Hm. So…I could say something that allows her out of the situation? So you want to make her feel like a burden.
Arguing with herself, Karis glanced at the clock. She began to feel the slow crawl of time.
There was no way out until the end of lunch. At one point, Karis realized Paris was slowly turning away from her as she ate, chewing slowly and carefully. It only took her so long because she had been busy trying to hide her face with her hair. Another five minutes passed and Paris saw that only a third of her lunch was left. One more minute and Karis sat with an empty tray in her lap as she felt both the air conditioning and the pressure of Paris’ subtle sighs make her skin erupt in goosebumps. Just beyond their table, the rest of the school continued on, crackling with energy.
. . .
Everyone’s so busy. Sweeping over her rollicking peers, Paris chose to observe the commotion around her rather than to feel the void caused by the lack of it at her table. She wasn’t alone at this table, but it felt like she was. Yet, it also felt like there was a string between the two that grew painfully taut with every minor movement. I could say something, anything. A little “hi” could help us both. It’d be nice. But every time Paris even shifted in her seat, the other girl would tense and sink deeper into herself.
But…then again, lunch is almost over and it’d be uncomfortably weird. Paris shot down that idea with a disappointed exhale. She kept her eyes away from Karis.
Karis wondered if the girl looked away in pity, or if she just wasn’t up for dealing with someone like her. Or, you know, she isn’t obligated to spontaneously start talking to someone. Yet, Karis wished she was because, pathetically, her own social prowess was non-existent. She could just say “hi” or-

“Hey. My name’s Hellen. How are you guys doing?”

Already settling herself into the space between the two girls, the new arrival beamed a friendly smile at both of them.
“I’m good. Thanks, and I-I like your name?”, Karis said to Hellen, slowly decreasing in volume and confidence. She shifted in her seat and attempted to return Hellen’s smile.
Following the flow of the conversation, Paris responded, “I’m doing well, thank you”, before adding on, “Oh-my name’s Paris. I like your name, too.” Offering a little wave, she hoped it wasn’t too awkward.
“My name’s Karis!”, she blurted out.
Both girls across from Karis looked at her in surprise.
“And I-I thought that was, uh, a cool coincidence that we have similar names. I guess. Yep.”
“Hey, that is pretty neat. I guess that makes us name neighbors? If that’s a thing?”Paris responded.
Chuckling, Hellen answered, “Name twins. Well, almost name twins.”
For the first time, both girls were finally relieved to talk because it helped with the awkward situation. It was... better.


The author's comments:

Overthinking things has always been a problem I've been confronted with and have tried to confront, especially in my school. The characters, Karis and Paris, are two sides of this; they encompass the overwhelming urge to run away from awkward situations (caused and worsened because of this urge) and the silent wish to somehow make things better (that doesn't end up making the situation better). Hellen, on the other hand, is just an example of what could be - if either Karis or Paris stepped up to fill her role. So, yes, this story has been a rather awkward but realistic scene of my everyday life. Still, I try to remind myself that maybe if I just tried, I don't have to eat lunch with a stranger.


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