Elliot was ravenous the next morning. She had awoken to her nap to be greeted by a dark sky, her stomach groaning for food. She had missed dinner, and her curfew had ended hours ago, so she had willed herself back to sleep.
Even with the obnoxious chewing of the girl next to her, she had still stuffed food into her mouth with a speed she didn't know she was capable of.
Elliot peeked up from her tray, a piece of her sandwich meat dangling from the side of her mouth. Her face turned a bright red as she noticed Oliver looking at her from across the room, her pale eyebrows raised in question. She mouthed the word 'napkin', quickly looking away.
Elliot looked back down at her plate, making sure to scrape every last bit of food off her mouth. She was tempted to glance back up at Oliver, but she resisted, far too horrified with her lack of manners.
A girl leaned over to her friend, whispering something in her ear, and she giggled in response. Elliot tapped her foot anxiously, attempting to hold back the blush in her cheeks. She distracted herself with picking at her food, not daring to take another bite despite her stomach's longing. Even if it had been two months since her mother had sent her away to the hell-hole, she hadn't had much luck making friends since then.
Elliot awkwardly cleared her throat, putting down her fork and stuffing her hands into the pockets of her oversized blue hoodie.
She gazed down at her plate, and when the bell rang her stomach was still complaining for food.
English class didn't come quickly enough. She settled down at her chair, heaving a great sigh. Her eyes followed to the clock over and over again, but the time would never pass any quicker. She didn't mind working on an her essay, but she sought her alone time... and some food.
In the complete silence, she felt her stomach twist and flop over itself. Elliot blinked, her pencil pausing on her paper. And then she heard the result: a loud, guttural growl that seemed to echo across the room. Her cheeks burned red and she folded an arm over her abdomen, ducking her head down as the people around her looked up and giggled. Even Oliver, who sat in the seat directly in front of her, whipped her head back to look.
The teacher had to snap in order for them to quiet, but it didn't help for the muffled laughter when the second wave came through, and she thought she would implode in on herself.
It took forever for the time to pass, and was nearly shaking with relief when it did. She walked to History, recalling the project she and Oliver had to work on with a quiet sigh.
Elliot was distracted again by the time she settled in her seat; much so she didn't even notice when Oliver came in late, stuffing something that crinkled into her backpack. Even when the pale headed girl sat next to her, she had to shake her shoulder in order to get her attention. Elliot had blinked, befuddled and slightly disoriented. But before she had any time to blush and make some embarrassing remark, Oliver reached into her bag and pulled out two snack-sized bags of potato chips and slid them over to her. Elliot opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it once again when she emanated a loud growl.
Oliver sat back in her chair, and said, "I keep more than enough in my dorm for emergencies. Just eat them."
And so she did.