Chapter Four
Meanwhile, Dash was attending lunch. . .
"What the hell is this?" Dash asked.
He pushed the food around his tray with a fork. It was brown. All brown. Dash felt now was a good time for Marshall to go on a diet.
"I'm not eating this ever. Ev-er." Dash decided and pushed the tray away. Maybe the juice would sustain him for the rest of the day.
Simon looked at Marshall strangely. He sure is acting weird, Simon thought. He's been weird since Simon met him for lunch.
Simon had came into the cafeteria to their usual table but Marshall wasn't there. Simon had scanned the cafeteria and found Marshall just getting out of line. Marshall was standing and looking confused. He had a petulant frown that was very un-Marshall like.
Simon had called out to him. Marshall had grinned and nodded.
"Hey, short stuff," Marshall had greeted him.
Simon was bewildered. Marshall never called him "short" names. Now Marshall didn't know what his favorite meatloaf mash was?
"Um, Marshall? Did something weird happen today? To you?" Simon asked, peering at Marshall intently.
Marshall sighed. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the table. Simon's eyes widened. Super un-Marshall like.
"I'll tell it to you straight. It's Friday the 13th. Your buddy and I have switched places. I'm not Marshall. I'm Dash," he stated as if it was an everyday occurrence.
"What!" Simon shouted jumping up.
"Get a grip, midget," Dash said, looking extremely bored.
"Get a grip, you say? What did you do to Marshall! You...you body snatcher!" Simon exclaimed in outrage.
People in the cafeteria were starting to stare at them. Dash sighed annoyed. He hated unwanted attention. He pulled Simon back into his seat.
"I didn't do anything, bozo. Honest. I was surprised as you were," Dash stated as honestly as someone like him could.
Simon forced himself to calm down. He needed to find a way to save Marshall.
"What are you doing here? You should have went to find Marshall right away to fix this," Simon asked angrily.
"I was at first. But I decided it might be kind of interesting. Maybe cause some mischief in the process. Hehe," Dash responded with a grin.
Simon just groaned. Dash shook his head smiling. "Hey, I haven't seen your pal coming to look for me. He probably had the same idea," Dash said innocently.
"You jerk. Marshall's probably been searching for a cure. Not living your criminal life," Simon explained.
Dash's face suddenly became oddly...vulnerable. "I also..." His voice started out gruff but he coughed as he seemed to gather courage.
"Well, I wanted to check out this family thing. Feel it out. Maybe...bring up some memories," Dash finished quietly.
Simon looked at Dash surprised. But he understood. Simon's family wasn't that great yet he was still grateful to at least have one. And Simon couldn't imagine what it's like to wake up one day with no memory of who you are or where you belong. He could only imagine the constant feeling of being alone.
Simon sighed and shook his head. "I guess all we can do is wait till school's over then. It would have been wrong if 'Marshall' hadn't shown for school, after all," Simon said.
However, Dash wasn't paying attention anymore. He was rummaging through a backpack. A backpack that was definitely not Marshall's!
"Where did that backpack come from?" Simon asked, eying Dash suspiciously.
Dash's trademark "I hit the jackpot" grin had returned to the face that was once full of sadness.
"Oh, this? Yeah, I've ripped off a couple of suckers. You should see some of the stuff I stole! It's all in Marshall's locker right now," Dash answered, with a laugh.
Any pity for Dash Simon had felt at the moment quickly shriveled and died.
"You...jerk! Are you trying to get Marshall suspended!" Simon yelled with his face red as his moppy hair.
Simon jumped out of his seat and left the cafeteria. Obviously, heading for Marshall's locker.
Dash felt relieved. He couldn't stand the way Simon was looking at him. That stupid look of pity.
Pity was a waste of time. It didn't get anyone anywhere. It wasn't productive to him.
He had lied about stealing a lot of stuff. But he did "borrow" this backpack from someone sitting behind them who had got up for awhile.
Dash found a Walkman in the pack and slid the backpack back to the guy's chair. No need to raise an alarm, he snickered inwardly.
He leaned back in his chair and sighed. Listening to music was the only he way was going to survive the rest of these classes.
How did Marshall put up with it everyday?
