The cafeteria smells like paint and fried potatoes. My fingers are still smudged with charcoal from the previous class, and I haven't bothered to wash them. I sit by the window, cracked open to let the breeze in, staring blankly at the quiet garden outside while biting into my sandwich.
Then Elliot sits beside me. Without a word, without a sound, he just appears. Like he always used to. I blink, and there he is. He places a can of soda beside my tray. My favorite brand. I glance at it, then at him.
"Thanks," I mumble.
We don't talk for a few minutes. It's not the awkward kind of silence. More like the heavy, old kind. The silence of shared history, of things unspoken because they used to be understood. The kind of silence that used to be comfortable. Now it just feels loaded.
I open the soda. It fizzes. I sip it slowly. I wait. Because if he came all the way here and sat beside me, he must have something to say.
And finally, he does.
"Are you really dating Felix?"
