The SVE Club

4. Mask

    The rest of the morning was fairly uneventful. The classes were dull and ordinary. Midas felt as though he'd been at the school for days when he finally trudged into the cafeteria and paid for his lunch.

    Midas stalked through the rows of tables, looking for a place to sit. He received stares and snickers as he passed by the crowded tables. Cherokee North was a diverse school, but they hadn't seen anything like Midas before.

    He finally found a long, out of the way table which was empty on one end. When he sat down, the other students sitting there scooted as far away as they could. Midas payed them no mind as he began to eat.

    He observed the other students in the cafeteria, comparing them to the ones at ISH.

    Lunch at ISH was, although chaotic, kind of beautiful. The Mentas would try to get in your head and make you hand over whatever part of your lunch they wanted. The Forzatacs loved to arm wrestle and would occasionally break the tables while participating. And lunch was never compete without Conjoiner pranks. Their idea of fun was melding the bottom of your tray to the table, or your shoe laces to the ground.

"Hey! Hello?"

Midas looked up in surprise. Was someone talking to...

"Hi!" Sam said excitedly, standing on the other side of the table.

This girl again? "Get lost," Midas growled.

Sam ignored him. "This seat taken? Nope? I'm gonna sit here." She plunked her tray down on the table and set her notebook next to it.

Midas gave her his signature glare. Sam was unaffected as she began to eat.

"I'm Samantha, by the way. Samantha Wilson. Everyone just calls me Sam, though," she said cheerfully.

"What. Do you. Want?"

"I wanna talk," Sam said. "You went to ISH. I want to go to ISH. You can give me some pointers."

Midas squinted at her. "Pointers? Do you even have a power?"

Sam folded her arms slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Midas scoffed. "You're kidding."

Sam glanced at her tray. "Nope. And if you tell me what your power is, I'll tell you what min-"

"What is that?!" Midas suddenly shouted.

"Huh?" Sam said, turning around to see what he was looking at.

Midas got up and stood on the bench seat. "Hey!" he bellowed. The cafeteria slowly began to go quiet.

Sam finally found what Midas was looking at. A freshman she didn't know was wearing a mask and joking around with some friends a few tables over. The student turned and saw Midas staring at him.

"What is that?" Midas asked the student.

"A... It's a mask," the student stuttered.

"Take it off!" Midas shouted.

"Hey, dude, it's just a joke. You don't need to-"

"Take it off!" Midas repeated.

"Alright, alright," the student yelled. Hands shaking, he pulled the mask off his face and held it in his hand. "Better?"

"Not quite," Midas whispered. He stretched out a hand in the direction of the mask.

BANG!

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The mask caught flame. And then it burst, the explosion sending bits of the mask everywhere. The student clutched his hand in surprise and pain. A quick chorus of gasps and screams rang through the cafeteria before the entire room went silent.

Sam stared agape. "Dynamopsych," she whispered to herself. "Definitely class A."

"Allllldriiiiidge?!" someone roared. Midas turned to find the assistant principal standing in the doorway.

"Get over here!" Miss O'Brian hollered.

    Midas scowled at her and crossed his arms.

    "Nowwwww!" Miss O'Brian screeched.

    Sam looked up at Midas. "Well... go on," she said, nodding a head towards the door. She tried to give him a sympathetic smile.

    Midas sighed and hopped down from the bench. He slowly made his way towards the door, where Miss O'Brian waited impatiently.

    "You'd better clean up your act, Aldridge," Miss O'Brian hissed, grabbing Midas roughly by the arm and escorting him to the principal's office.

    The chatter returned to the cafeteria after they left. Sam gazed wistfully at her autograph book.

    So close.