I do not Own anything by D.P.&L.C.
Lunch time.
Generally, there was a seating order, not by the teachers, but by the students. The Maure family was in the nearest table to the exit, a group of gypsy looking boys and girls- one of them being the queen. The Berbon family was just to the left of them, a spotty looking group of fair skinned children, the Lumer's just behind them, and the Nulmiers just behind them. The other few tables were up for any. Those four families however, especially the Maure's, owned the school. Luckily for Diogenes, this was his last year. Gingerly, he says in the spot he always sat, a lone table, and diagonal to his brother and his only two friends.
It was his, his spot. He sat there every day since the start of school and watched. He watched the chattering fools, watched his brother angrily. Loathing every one of them, for their naivety, stupidity, frailty… He was disturbed abruptly, a tray flopping down in front of him with a bole of cereal. It was lunch not breakfast. Staring up from his unappetizing sandwich he met the eyes of the girl from the other day. Plopping down in the seat in front of him, she opened up the small box as if nothing was wrong.
"vos perussi ut?," she asked pointing to his wretched plate with out looking up.
"No," he mumbled looking down at his plate in slight disgust. Often times he fantasized cockroaches some where in the mystery meat, still alive and twitching. He gazed back up at her, noticing her placing some of the cereal on a napkin. Magically, the napkin of oddly shaped cereal was on his tray in seconds. "You need to eat," she said popping a little cereal puff into her mouth.
They had been talking at the swings for perhaps a week now. At first, it was obviously awkward, and Diogenes wanted more then anything to get rid of her. Yet, after the third visit, he had begun to admire her. She wasn't your bland little snob; in fact, he didn't even think she was rich. Exotic, eccentric, intriguing, she could be kept, at least for a little while.
Staring at her, he noticed suddenly a set of eyes, set firmly on his figure. Certainly it was not her, whose eyes were off into some distant world beyond her and him self. Peeking over her shoulder, he took a cereal puff and plopped it into his mouth.
His brother. Oh, dear brother, he must have been so confused at the sight… almost as much as Diogenes was, probably. Aloysius's face was paler then usual, actually. It seemed drawn, shocked, and his intense blue eyes seemed to falter away into a sea of nothingness. Oh it was so delightful!
Popping another cereal puff in his mouth he noticed that she was staring at him, staring at his eyes. Growling, she didn't look away when his brow furrowed and fiery gaze stared so intensely at her that it threatened to set her aflame. Still she didn't flinch. Instead, she picked up a cereal piece and popped it in his mouth. "You're funny," she chuckled, picking up the empty cereal box and strutting away.
As if assuming she would know he didn't eat, he hurriedly finished his cereal. Fumbling for his tray, he saw a hand come down on his tray, "Little brother." Diogenes peered up at his brother, "Oh, dear Aloysius, to what do I owe this honor?" Aloysius sneered down at the fiery child. Snatching his plate out from under his older brothers hand, they stood erect on either side of the table, a total stand off. The entire lunch room seemed to hush into silence, and then…
"Don't hurt her," Aloysius warned ominously. Spinning away, it seemed like the world decided to resume its regular functions. Smirking and ruing in his satisfaction, he trashed the tray quickly and ran out of the exit after her. Blinded by the sudden sun, he fell back against the door shielding his eyes. The faint howl of wind forcing passed his small body, the sound of creaking metal as swings swished and the turnabout spun. Getting back to his feet he roved an eye over the playground like a hawk eyeing for his prey.
Running as fast as his pale legs could pump, she was in his spot, on his swing. "Hey," he called, "What do you think you are doing?" Eyeing her little legs pumping her higher, above everyone, above the world. "I said, what do you think you are doing," he growled trying to grab the chain of the swing.
She just laughed, a cute lively sound, jumping off of the swing before he could catch her leg- skirt flying like a wave in her wake.
She was quite the little sprite, actually. "You're so picky," she giggled spinning around to watch him clamber onto his perch, "Why not do something different, something extraordinary, or at least, better the past…"
Furrowing his brow, he frowned down at her, "I can do other things."
"Then why do you stay on your branch all day like a vulture, when you could be the predator," she teased.
Wrapping his little fists around the chain, he stared her down with all his furry.
"What are you suggesting," he muttered reluctantly.
Turning back to the playground she pointed back with her thumb, "No one is out. Why not take the thrown?"
Eyes narrowing, he rubbed his chin like he often saw his father do. It was a splendid idea, one he had already fantasized of long before the day, but never fulfilled. Perhaps now that he had an accomplice… they would just crucify them both.
"Come!" she called, wrapping an encouraging arm around his own and tugging him, much against haw will, to the slides. "I always sit at the slides, it's my thrown."
"Who is to say you can't have more then one thrown," she countered climbing the slick slide to its top. She had a point, the Ottomans, Greeks, Romans, and so on all had numerous smaller kingdoms… "Hurry up, will you."
Scurrying to the top, his loafers did nothing to aiding any grip to the situation as he stumbled and bumbled up the slide. It felt like ages before he hit the top, crawling up beside her and leaning, winded, against a metal pole. "Antoinette," he breathed huskily, and almost instantly her head snapped around, it was the first time he said her name.
"What," she teased, a great smile teasing a pinkish hue to her cheeks.
"You're crazy," he smiled lightly for a fraction of a second, and still it made her smile grow.
"You're not?" she asked, a slight gleam in her eye- a gleam that would great him on more then one occasion. The situation was perfect, their little lying over the slide, barely separated by a small ridge in the slide, hands splayed behind them as they leaned back toward the sky. Just staring in silence, they watched clouds changing shape and telling their story in the world above, the cicadas humming their tune of the bayou, and the tall grasses battling the breeze that was seen but not felt.
Even so, it felt like hours before their peace was broken- the queen and her infamous family was on the scene. "What are you doing?" her voice pierced their ear, forcing them out of the bliss and back to the bleak reality that was school. "You're in my spot!" she shrilled, throwing a hand to her hip and kicking out a leg. Groaning with out a word, Diogenes shifted uncomfortably ready to move, but suddenly felt a hand on his- a wonderfully smooth hand over his own.
Furrowing his brow in confusion, "What…" Hushed instantly, he eyed Antoinette carefully as she reached into a pocket. "Are y'all going to move!" the little witch bellow shouted. "No," Antoinette said simply, flicking something out of her pocket and into the girl's face- a shrill cry silencing even the cicadas. Reeling in disgust, she tried to see what was on her forehead- slapping at it frantically. There, inching along her great globe a large green fuzzy caterpillar. Finally slapping it down to the ground, she shrieked, "You keep stuff like that in your pocket you freak?"
Antoinette shrugged lazily, eyeing the queen and her slowly retreating figure, "Freak."
Diogenes cocked his head to the side to look at Antoinette's pocket, "You keep that on you?" Cackling she through her head back, "Sometimes, it looked pretty, so I wanted it." There was something so oddly innocent by the fraise that flicker of a smile was inevitable.
"Hey," she began, "we won right?" Diogenes nodded with a faint smile, touching her hand with his own and looking back toward the sky.
"It's almost the end of school," she began.
"Will I see you," he questioned looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Naturally," she smirked, "how about next year?"
"Ah," Diogenes faltered, "I won't be back next year…"
"Aren't you a lucky dog," she mumbled, "You aren't moving I hope."
"Of course not," he assured, "And yourself?"
Merely nodding, they returned to their silent company, taking in the sensation of the playground. Cicadas, screaming children like banshees, the rustle of the brush, and the distant rumble of water on rock- and there they were on there thrown together, above the world.
vos perussi ut?- you consume that?
