Hot, sticky barbecue sauce splatters onto Mal's hand as she places a heap of chicken wings onto her plate. She grimaces at the contact and quickly brings her skin to her lips to eliminate the mess. The tang of the sauce makes her moan softly, and she glances around nervously to ensure no one else had to hear that. She couldn't help it; the sauce was just so good. Maybe she's hungrier than she thought. Glancing down at her plate of wings, she wishes she had taken more. However, the lunch rush that had lined up after her arrival made that option unwelcoming. She scowls at her misfortune. Her eyes scan the various lunch stations until she spots the new allergen friendly food booth. Straight out of a stereotype, a scrawny looking, visually impaired boy waits in line. The menu reads various lackluster options until 'gluten free beef and cheese quesadilla' sparks her interest. Gluten free sounds a hell of a lot better than spending twenty more minutes in line waiting for more wings. A sigh escapes her lips as she trudges over to the mostly barren station.

The boy's features light up as she approaches. She avoids his eyes and examines his plate instead. Two appetizing slices of the very quesadilla she came here for greet her. "Miss? What can I get for you?" a young man, presumably the cook, asks her. Mal's eyes flick to the empty pan labeled 'quesadillas' and she emits a very intelligent sounding 'uhhhh'

"I'll just have two quesadillas," she finishes, glancing at the boy's plate for reference. The cook nods and turns to the counter behind him. As soon as he's gone, the small boy seeks to fill the void.

"It's so nice that our school has an allergen friendly selection now," he muses. Mal looks at everything but him. "It's so hard to find decent gluten free food, but Auradon sure knows what it's doing!" he compliments with a wistful sigh, and Mal's eyebrows raise. She wishes she could magically make him disappear. What's taking so long anyway? She casually stretches her neck and sees the quesadillas cooking on a tiny grill. It looks like they're making enough to fill the empty pan as well. Great. Who knows how long she'll be here. A hand in her peripheral catches her attention. She looks at it with disbelief, and doesn't move to take it. Apparently, the boy had introduced himself. She'd ask him to repeat his name, but she really doesn't give a damn what it is. His dopey expression softens her a tad, so she offers her name in consolation. "Nice to meet you, Mal!" he exclaims. "It's always helpful to know your fellow GFs," he says with a smile and an obnoxiously dramatic wink. Mal's eyebrows furrow, and she finally looks at him.

"GFs?" she inquires.

"Gluten-frees!" he clarifies, much too happily for before noon.

"I'm not-" Mal starts, but the cook suddenly reappears and cuts her off with two giant quesadillas on a warm plate. Her mouth drops in surprise. When she had asked for two quesadillas she thought they would be in slices, like the ones on the boy's plate beside her. What the hell was she going to do with two entire quesadillas?! She can't even form coherent words at this point, so she mechanically walks to her usual booth.

She slides into the seat with just as distant of an expression on her face as when she received the food. Two pairs of brown eyes immediately find her meal as the plates clink against the table. Her best friends, Jay and Carlos, had been arguing before her arrival, but they're sure quiet now. Their mouths are agape and practically drooling over her plate of wings. There's already sauce all over their hands and faces, so they must have enjoyed their own wings before she arrived. Noticing their apparent lack of food, she limply pushes the plate of wings to their side of the booth. Immediately, the boys are shoving each other to claim as many wings as they can for themselves.

"Thanks, Mal" Carlos says through a mouthful of food. "We didn't grab enough wings, so we thought we'd wait for the line to get shorter," he finishes.

"You know how it is; those plates are just too small. It's like they don't even want us to eat!" Jay pitches in, wing unceremoniously hanging out of his mouth. Watching the two boys voraciously devour her plate of wings gives her an inkling as to why that attitude may resonate with the cooks. Her eyes glaze over as she calculates just how long she's going to have to spend in the cafeteria to finish the quesadillas.

"Damn, Mal. Two quesadillas is a lot, even for me!" Jay comments. "You must be hungry!"

"I thought they were in slices!" she growls at the offending food. Maybe if she glares hard enough at them they'll just shrink.

Damn that stupid nerd for making her think the quesadillas were pre-sliced. Damn Auradon and its zero food waste policy. Damn Ben for convincing her to sign the clean plate club board. Damn her for getting soft and giving a shit in the first place. Damn, who the hell is that?

Bright blue quickly catches her attention against the dull colors of the overflow seating area. The girl is standing and leaning on the booth in front of them, slightly bent over and amicably chatting with its inhabitants. The chatting is audible, but unintelligible to Mal because it's mostly in Spanish. The blue haired girl is donning a surprising amount of leather for Auradon and looks like she would fit right in with Mal and the boys apart from the fact that she's also twinkling with girly accessories and perched in unreasonably high heeled shoes. Mal finds her laugh just as endearing as her blinding smile. Jay looks over his shoulder to follow his friend's gaze.

"You have all that food and you still look so hungry," he teases. The noise that breaks out of Carlos is something akin to a honk, and Mal would have laughed if she weren't so embarrassed about being caught staring. Carlos finished his wing and also turns around to catch sight of whatever Mal was so focused on.

"Don't look!" Mal whispers a little loudly, but it's too late. She hangs her head and suddenly her plate is very interesting. To make matters worse, it appears Carlos is talking to the inhabitants of other booth. She finally bites into one of the quesadillas to act casual, and her eyes roll back into her head a little at the taste. At least they're delicious. When Carlos turns back around there's a wide, sauce-covered smile gracing his face.

"That's Evie, she just moved here. She's in my Modern Fashion and Design class," he casually informs his friends. The topic of conversation finally leaves the other booth and heads towards the cafeteria. She catches Mal's eye right as the latter girl takes a huge bite into her quesadilla. Red-stained lips quirk at the sight as she walks by, and Mal wants to crawl under the booth and die. She hadn't even said anything to this girl yet, and she's already embarrassing herself.

It seems like Evie passes by Mal's booth much too often for an activity that most people remain seated for. She doesn't even have plates or silverware in her hands, so Mal can only imagine what she's doing on each trip. Each time she passes, Mal tries to refrain from staring at the girl, but it's hard when she's so stunning and so often in her field of view. With every pass by, a waft of apple cinnamon fills Mal's lungs and kills her brain cells. She would even bet her favorite leather jacket that the girl knows what she's doing as her hand unnecessarily grasps the back of the booth, right behind Mal, as she rounds the corner. As usual, the boys remain ignorant, lost in their heated conversation about the last tourney match. Mal's only got half a quesadilla left, but her body feels like it may actually pop at the seams at this point. Suddenly, the boys rise from their seats and shuffle out of the booth, plates in hand.

"See you later, Mal!" Carlos says, and Jay offers her a head nod. She musters up a half-genuine smile for them before they take their leave. A sigh escapes her lips as she stares down the rest of her food.

"I will finish you," she sternly tells the quesadilla. "Eventually," she adds, much less intimidatingly. Her hands search around in her backpack momentarily before finding her sketchbook. She removes a pencil from her jacket pocket and leans against the wall, searching for victims. The drawing class she's enrolled in requires her to draw 100 different people from life before the end of the semester, and Mal figures it's as good of a time as any to work on it. She manages to complete five sketches before blue-painted nails on her table tear her out of her drawing zone.

"Hi," easily escapes smiling red lips. The soft clattering of Mal's pencil rolling off the seat and hitting the floor feels much too loud in the otherwise noisy venue.

"Hi," Mal breathes back.

"I'm Evie," the girl introduces with a raspy voice and a suave smile.

"I know," falls out of Mal's mouth before she can stop it. Her eyes squeeze shut, hoping that if she can't see the situation it didn't really happen.

"Oh no, am I making a name for myself around here already?" Evie laughs lowly and gracefully slides into the now empty seat across from Mal.

"No!" Mal answers quickly. "Well, not that I know of, but Carlos told me about you; he's in your fashion class," she rants. It takes Evie a while to put a face to the name.

"Oh yeah, Carlos. He's the one that was wearing more food than he ate, right?" she asks playfully. To that, Mal lets out an honest chuckle.

"Probably. But that could have been Jay, too. Can't take them anywhere," she muses. Her best friends were irrevocably uncouth boys, but they were her uncouth boys. They had all grown up in the shady part of town, and their families had their fair share of issues. However, she could always count on her boys' loyalty, and she wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. Evie hums in response and eyes Mal's plate and the partial quesadilla laying on it.

"Good," she starts, and Mal's eyebrows furrow in confusion at the unexpected response. "You like Hispanic food?" Evie inquires, recalling the mountain that previously sat there. She appears to be asking casually, but there's something about the glint in her red-brown eyes and the tone of her voice that suggests more. Mal leans back against the wall and purposefully rakes her eyes appreciatively over the other girl's body.

"It's my favorite" she replies coolly, voice lower than normal. It's a lie, but it'll serve its purpose. A faint blush appears on Evie's cheeks, but her collected façade is otherwise intact. Mal smiles confidently in turn.

"It's taco Tuesday here tonight-two tacos for $1.50," Evie challenges. It's not framed as a question, and Mal gets the idea.

"Now that is just too good of a deal to pass up," she replies, holding Evie's gaze intensely.

"Good. I'll see you there then," Evie states, smoothly exiting the seat.
"Oh, and," she adds before leaning back on the table. "You said it yourself; you can't take the boys," she husks. Mal's brain short circuits due to the close proximity of Evie's face and the generous view down her shirt, so she only nods dumbly in response. Even after the blue haired girl is gone, her scent lingers to further impede Mal's concentration. Eventually, she snaps out of her daydreams and is met with the taunting face of the last bit of quesadilla. Her appetite has returned enough for her to triumphantly finish the meal, throwing her napkin onto her plate with more force than necessary.

Two challenges accepted, one to go.