The most mentally trying time of high school has to be lunch. It is the social proving ground of all young men and women. They parade themselves before their peers to be judged and accepted, or ridiculed. Those who fail this unwritten "class" are doomed to be crazy vagrants ranting on a street corner, or software company presidents. Lunch is like combat. You have your team of friends who are willing to stand by you in the face of others. And occasionally they might need to use actual combat skills to make it through with any dignity. This is what every young man and woman worries most about, who they are going to hang out with during that thirty minute battle.

Mike, David, and Frankie had become good friends during the summer. They had proven through their wit that they each suited one another to survive the battlefield of lunch. There wasn't ever a formal declaration that they would meet. They just came together the first day of their sophomore year. Somehow they knew where to meet and what time they should each get there. It was this first day that proved to them to be the hardest one to get through.

Even before they entered the cafeteria that day the test had already begun. When the upper classman bell sounded they recognized warning for them to get ready. When they were released out into the halls already there were people with food mulling around. It was up to each of them to look like they had a purpose, and people to meet. Otherwise they were the lunch nomads. They are the loneliest people of all, sentenced to roam aimlessly. They were their first opponent to beat. The people who would see them and possibly think that they were one of the people that they were too trying to avoid.

Once the three arrived in the cafeteria the real test began. Frankie brought his lunch and looked around for a suitable table to lay claim to. He made eye contact with David, who was waiting in the line, and did a suggestive gesture asking if that table would be suitable. It looked good to Frankie. Near the door, perfect if an expedient exit became necessary. And it was also up against the wall, which meant that they would be on the edge looking in. No one could sneak up behind their lunchtime fortress. After a minute or so Mike entered the melee. He saw Frankie and gave him a nod. Frankie replied with a implication that David would be ahead of him in the line, and this was the table they would claim. Everything was set. Now Mike and David would be getting their lunches. It was all up to Frankie to claim this table, and show that he belonged there. He moved his backpack, took out his lunch, and spread his things out so it would seem three or four people are, or would be, sitting there. As he did so, his mind was racing. Every minute his friends were in the line he was standing alone against the enemy. Very often he would turn and look into another group of people to seem as though he was part of them. But also during this interim he had to fend off any undesirable people who might try and assail their fortress for acceptance. The key to table security was not making eye contact with any of them. Frankie acted constantly busy, either moving something around or eating a small portion of food and acting like he was listening to someone.

David has his own share of problems to deal with. The first was an opponent so cleverly disguised that he had been fooled by it. He first sensed it when he stepped into the cafeteria. It hit him straight in the nose and traveled down to his stomach. It smelled terrible, but it seemed to smell enough like food to catch him in the right way. He made it for the line as fast as his legs could go, without seeming like he was trying to get there speedily. Once he was in the line it was all a game of chicken with anybody who stood around him. He had to show that this spot in line was his, and he would move for no one. If he could do that his spot would be secure and he would be safe to look around at the other people. "That girl is such a stupid whore" somebody commented behind him. "Doesn't she even know that you can see right through that shirt?" another girl responded. Once this fell on poor David's ear his attention was gained fully by some tall redheaded girl who's shirt managed to show right through to her brassiere, which also didn't hide it's contents well. The rest of the lunch line was a blur to David. Many obscene things passed through his mind as his gaze was fixed fully on the girl's breast. The small peach bra managed to slip enough to gain David a peek at her. Apparently she was cold. So much blood left his brain for regions undisclosed that his brain wouldn't function properly. The lunch lady had to ask him twice if he wanted a sloppy joe, or a hot dog. He got his sloppy joe and made his way out of the melee and headed straight for the safety of Frankie at the table.

Mike didn't have it as easy as David. He had been unfortunate enough to come in at the end of the line. In front of him were some of the people he most intensely despised. He felt that if anybody in the whole school would be shot randomly they would be his first wish. Mike's first strategy was to act like he hadn't seen them. He looked around like he never saw them. His gaze apparently fixed on some blonde teacher's posterior region. But this didn't work. One of the guys soon noticed that their favorite pigeon was in the line behind them. The opening volley went something along the lines of "Hey, dumbass I thought you were a gay? Why are you checking our THAT TEACHER'S ASS?!?!" To this Mike decided to respond with his good old reliable response of "Shut-up you stupid bitch! Why don't you go suck so-". He was cut off mid sentence as a piece of carrot made it's way for Mike's head. He knew that it was thrown by the boy who had insulted him earlier. That was the final act of indignation he would take from him. Mike took two steps forward, leaned back and struck him square in the throat. Immediately, even before it landed, the crowd grew and began to yell. The poor kid fell to the ground and began to cough. Within seconds Mike was being forcibly towed out of the cafeteria.

Frankie had seen the whole thing develop from his table. He knew that he wouldn't be eating lunch with Mike today. He looked to see if David had observed what had happened. But he noticed that he was staring off into space with great interest. Finally when David reached their table he told him of how Mike and punched the kid in the throat. And David told him of the redheaded girl who's breasts he had stared at for what seemed like three hours.

That was how lunch was for them. After Mike came back to school their routine had been finalized. Frankie would claim the table, always the one by the mural next to the wall. David would get there first but wait in line and always he would ogle the developing girls around him. And Mike provided their heavy artillery. If anything got out of hand he would show himself and the trouble would calm down. Every day they knew their jobs and did them without failure. It provided them with a firm base. They knew that they were accepted and other people recognized them. That is the ultimate victory in the lunchtime battlefield.