The day dragged on for Conager. Sitting, raising, writing, reading. Turning in papers was the least difficult thinking process, but it still felt like such a chore. But the reality was he was just lazy. It was difficult for him to get past the thought of being stuck here when he believed it was unnecessary. But since he had no authority and he would receive no help from anyone with a tongue or someone's good ear, he simply tried to think positively.<br/><br/>When lunch rolled around, he still didn't feel much relief. It was only a year or so ago they revoked every student's rights to wander the school at this hour. People could use this time to study quietly, or use the fitness room. Now after and increasing amount make-out sessions in the stairwell and rumors of sex in the locker rooms, it was finally passed that everyone had to stay in the cafeteria at lunch to be watched. And they were. It was literally like prison. With an extra track upstairs around the border of the lunchroom, they were "hawk-watched." Security guards and rule enforcing hall monitors were stationed everywhere. At least one at every entrance, and five looking down on them. You'd think it was a little ridiculous. I mean, they're teenagers. What do they expect? They'll all sip their tea and read books together like happy children? Please...<br/><br/>Conager sifted through his pockets a few moments, hoping to find some extra change and buy his lunch rather than eat from the sack prepared for him. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it, the food just felt so bland with it's traditionalism. A dense hoagie roll with lettuce, mustard, turkey meat, chicken, and the option of tomato all bagged separately for his stacking agenda.<br/><br/>Luckily with their seclusion, they were still allowed to sit where they pleased, which included the floor, a variety of chairs along the walls and the steps of stairs that came down from a small stage at the back wall. He found his usual place, tucked against the small side wall on the stage at the top of the stairs. He pressed his back to the curtain and slid down, crossing his legs at his ankles as he pulled the contents from the paper bag. He choose this spot, one out of seclusion, and he felt he had a good vantage point to the rest of the room, and second, two girls always had their phones out, flipping through the pages of Cosmo and Men's Fitness and looking up more images of a certain face they giggled over. Conager found a small pleasure in looking over their shoulder, and not just to laugh at their silly ways.<br/><br/>Halfway through, he saw an unfriendly face. Rolling his eye, he looked to his lap, taking another quick bite of his sandwich before losing it, or facing the potential of choking on it. Sure enough, within a couple minutes, a pair of wide, significantly small feet came tromping his way. Before they approached, he wrapped the thin plastic over his roll, tucked it away and placed his hands in his lap.<br/>"Good afternoon gentlemen-"<br/>"Stow it, bitch!" Caleb snapped.<br/>With a sigh, Conager brushed his hands together and looked up.<br/>"I told you, we have shit to finish."<br/>"Why," Conager huffed, "were you really that offended? Because lets face it, if you don't just let this roll of your shoulders, we're never<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>going to have 'shit' to finish."<br/>"Maybe he should just take you around and show you what's what." another guy piped up.<br/>"I think you still just have it for me Caleb. You'll really want to tell Rachel before she finds out from someone else." He said flatly, drinking a quick swig of his cranberry juice.<br/>"Are you callin' me a fag?"<br/>"God no. That's such a nasty word. Unless you mean for me to smoke you, which I think I could do too." he grinned.<br/><br/>Without a word, Caleb's foot swing forward, making perfect contact with Conager's nose. His head threw back, knocking against the concrete wall he leaned on, falling over in just enough time for Caleb to punt right into his chest. Caleb's friends stepped back with wide eyes. Even they didn't see this coming. The rage from this guy was out of control.<br/>"Caleb, man stop, you're going to kill him!"<br/><br/>But he simply bent over, adding the the split that began swelling at the bridge of Conager's nose. He rose just enough as Caleb began hitting him, the adults just noticing, but not before Caleb's leg lifted once more to kick. It was delayed with Conager lifting his own, jabbing it forward and bending his knee back. Caleb's face smacked into the floor as instantly as Conager's kick. He sat up with his back against the curtain, the raging bull before him climbing the shallow stairs with his hands just as several pairs of hands clasped him: his shoulders, his arms, and even a set on his waist as he fought against him. It was a bit of a blur as he kept screaming curses and threats while practically being dragged away. Conager smiled as he watched his departure, scrunching his nose playfully before he was out of eye shot.<br/><br/>It took a moment, but he finally stood up, a wide split just below the center of his eyes, gushing and draining down his nose, past his cheeks and even down into his clavicle. He just walked casually, stepping out of his path for a second to spit into one of the garbages by the tables. A huge red glob splatted against the plastic lining before he continued out of the lunch room. He wasn't sure where he was headed, if he was headed anywhere at all. He simply didn't care for the stares and questionable looks he knew he would receive, along with the demanding questions and requests for him to see the nurse. Why bother? What were they going to do - give him detention? Typical. Here he was, bleeding profusely from his face, wandering the halls with no concern from anyone. Just a what happened, what the fuck, and a few authoritative commands.