Thomas looked up for a fraction of a second as Minho dropped into the seat directly across from him. The Korean seemed upset about something (not that this was much of a surprising occurrence), and Thomas chose not to ask. Instead, he reached across the table and stole one of his French fries. When this garnered no response from his friend, Thomas reached for another.
Beside them, Newt and Alby snickered. However, that was not what stopped Thomas, one hand extended out towards Minho's food. The thing that did was a quick kick to his shin. There is no one who could have done it other than Minho, and Thomas is stunned for a moment.
Of course, after that tiny period, he retaliates in kind. His foot shoots out so fast that anyone other than Minho would have fallen out of their chair. This back and forth goes on for almost ten minutes before someone jumps to the wrong conclusion. Of course it just has to be Jorge.
"Hey muchachos, you going to actually eat or are you both just too busy playing footsie?" Thomas' ears redden at this, his foot shooting out to kick Minho even harder than before. His friend jolts, his knee slamming into the table from below. Thomas almost smiles.
That is, until Minho misses with his next kick and it hits Gally. Of course, Gally assumes that Thomas is responsible (well, he is… just not directly) and kicks Thomas hard enough to send his body into an inadvertent reaction. His head slams into the table, forehead landing in his salad and both arms reaching under the table towards his stinging shin. Of course, bouncing his head off the fake wood does nothing for the pain and he slides out of his chair and onto the floor, landing far too close to Chuck's smelly feet for comfort.
Minho's head appears under the table along with Newt, Alby, and Teresa. All of them look worried, and Thomas is just woozy enough from hitting his head that the whole thing seems hilarious. His laughter makes them look even more worried.
Finally Thomas catches his breath and manages to almost get back into his seat. Of course luck is still not on his side today, as the pressure of Thomas' body on the chair sends it flying backwards and he falls again. By this time everyone is looking at their table and the whole room is eerily quiet.
Thomas speaks up from his position on the floor, coughing slightly from having the wind knocked out of him from the fall. "Hey Captain, I don't think I'll make it to practice today." Teresa shakes her head at her brother, looking vaguely ashamed by his attempt at humor. Chuck is laughing at his best friend's misfortune, milk shooting out his nose as he does so.
Thomas is still struggling to stand up, and he is almost certain that he has a concussion of some sort. Minho and Alby are by his side in seconds, and they help him stand. Minho is laughing again. "No shit, Greenie. Guess I'll have to kick someone else at lunch tomorrow, huh?"
Two days later, Thomas was back at school, having had to stay at home from a concussion. The school tables were a lot harder than people tended to give them credit for. Thomas sat down across from Minho this time, before reaching down to pull something out of his backpack. Then, he reached over and hit his friend over the head with something. Minho grimaced, looking up before his eyes widened at the object in his friend's hand.
Thomas shrugged. "I've got to be prepared just in case you attack again."
It was a shin guard.