What Are You Going To Do About It?

It turns out that a chocolate bar was not an acceptable choice for lunch.

Bai Long Qiang, realizing that I was going to forsake lunch in order to hide, dragged me into the cafeteria and stuffed a tray in my hands.

"Almost everything here is good," he started to explain as he got into line behind me. "The chefs that they hire are always the top of the line. However, some things are better than others."

I nodded my head, trying my best not to panic and do something stupid. Like drop my tray on one of the cool kids.

A million scenarios passed through my head before I even got close to the food. None of which involved me being able to sit down and eat in peace.

Reaching the glass wall that separated the food from the general public, I cocked my head to the side and looked at the offerings.

You would think that as a doctor, I was a bit of a germaphobe or that I would never eat at a buffet, but let me tell you, after several 12-hour shifts in a row, you become a lot less picky about your food.

Narrowing my eyes, I found what would make me happy. "Rice with breaded chicken," I said, seeing the popcorn chicken in one of the trays. The server nodded his head and dished it out for me.

"Are you sure you wouldn't want a salad on the side?" he asked, bringing my plate over to the other side, where there was a wide variety of salads being offered.

The fact that the server thought I would want a salad made me roll my eyes. I was 6. I would damn well eat whatever I wanted until my metabolism slowed down, and I could no longer do that.

Besides, there was nothing I hated more than vegetables. My idea of a salad was limited to potato or pasta salad.

Maybe a Caesar salad, depending on how many croutons they added to it, but all of these were nothing more than lettuce and tomatoes… or some variation of it.

"No," I assured him, holding out my hands for my tray. But the bastard did the worst thing any human being could have done….

He put a salad on top of my breaded chicken.

A salad… with dressing… on top of my chicken.

Well, there went my lunch.

The server held out my tray, and Bai Long Qiang took it since it was too high for me to be able to reach.

I took it from him without a word and waited for him to show me where we were going to sit.

----

"Not hungry?" asked Bai Long Qiang, a look of confusion on his face as he looked at me.

I was sitting across from him at a long table with about ten other students around us. Everyone was talking and laughing as they ate… but all I could do was stab my fork into my food and push it around my plate.

I would need to get Mom to make me lunch tomorrow, so I didn't have to put up with this.

"I am," I assured him as my stomach growled. I didn't realize the same thing that my brain did. This food was now contaminated, and there was nothing I could do to bring myself to eat it.

"Then why aren't you eating?"

"Because she is a little kid," said the cheerleader, bringing her tray to our table and pushing two guys out of the way so that she could sit closer to Bai Long Qiang. "She would probably prefer chicken nuggets or something like that."

Embarrassingly enough, my stomach decided to let out another growl at the idea of chicken nuggets. But at this point, I was thinking that almost anything would have set it off.

I studied the plate. There had to be something that wasn't touching something else.

Spinning it around, I found a bit of rice that had remained uncontaminated. Picking it up on my fork, I bit down.

Fuck. Nope, not even the rice was safe.

They must have put something like butter in it when they cooked it. The outside was oily, almost greasy, and it made my stomach churn. Now, it was in complete accord with my brain. There was nothing salvageable about this plate.

How did Bai Long Qiang not have his food touching? What the hell?

I looked up at the guy in question, my eyes narrowing as I watched him bring a fork full of chicken up to his lips. He paused when he noticed my gaze.

"Do you want this?" he asked, holding out his fork for me to bite.

I grabbed his plate and twisted it around, noticing that not a single thing had touched the chicken.

"Yes," I said, grabbing the fork from his hand and taking a bit. I moaned in happiness and did a little dance at the taste of chicken.

He was right. They definitely knew how to cook here. Too bad they didn't have the courtesy not to pile it all on top of each other.

"That is disgusting," muttered the cheerleader, just loud enough for all of us to be able to hear it.

I nodded my head, agreeing with her. Having stuff on my plate was disgusting. In fact, there was nothing worse as far as I was concerned.

Murder? Sure, bring it on.

A bit of torture? Done. I would just need a mop for the blood after.

Magots coming out of a dead body? Not a problem.

But food touching? Nope, not a chance in hell.

I handed the fork back to Bai Long Qiang and smiled in thanks.

"Did you want to trade plates?" he offered. I looked at what he had and frantically nodded. If he was okay with taking a food bullet for me, I would be more than happy to take him up on it.

He slid his plate across the table and took mine back with him.

I dug into some of the best chicken ever. It was second to Mom's, but I still liked hers better.

"Such a child," sneered the cheerleader, taking a bite of her salad.

"Yup," I agreed as I swallowed my food. "What are you going to do about it?"