Fiction: The Vending Machine - The unaware stare

I hurried down the stairs. Hungry pang type 3. The rumbling sounds in my tummy were getting louder and louder that they became more of an embarassment rather than a physiological urgency. In my conscious mind, I kept blaming myself for not bringing along the protein bars. Who cares if protein bars make girls fat in Mean Girls? They save me the humiliation of giving out funny sounds from the tummy.

The food aroma from the canteen greeted me as I stepped into the not-so-full canteen. Thank God, it's not that packed, I muttered under my breath. I quickly placed an order of noodles and moved along the queue to the counter. At the counter, I quickly made my payment. After that, I took my plate of food to the table at the periphery. There was a live band playing and I thought it would cool to just chill with the music and food altogether. Perfect lunch.

Just as I was sitting down, from the corners of my eyes, a familiar figure triggered my frontal cortex. Familiar. That's him! What was he doing in the bookshop? I haven't seen him for quite some time. I wonder if it was a feeling of missing someone.

I caught myself staring at him for quite a while. He didn't realise I was staring from afar, of course. I quickly dismiss the thoughts - he probably has forgotten this girl who drinks Strawberry F&N to cure her sorethroat.

I took a look at the plate of noodles and started eating. Slowly.

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