There is no safe place in this school!

There are two ladies at my school who welcome me more warmly than anyone else.

“Hi Ein! What can I get you today?” One of the ladies gave me an angelic smile.

“Hot fries please!” I took great care in swiping my card with my pinky extended. I shook showers of chicken salt over my fries, coating them yellow. As I sniffed the essence of my food, I heard the handball bouncing on the floor, announcing my friend’s grand arrival.

“Ein! What’s up? Oh!” He squinted at me. “Let me give you a pro tip, from me, Lord Bodhi. When the canteen ladies know your name,” he said gravely, “you’re spending too much money on food.”

I nodded. “Good point.” Bodhi’s eyes drooped. “Yeah. I’m completely broke… I only have 500 in the bank.”

I gulped. Five hundred?!

That was at least five times the money I had.

And this man called himself broke.

We both walked back across the oval to the handball squares; I savoured what could be my final moments as a man of luxury chips. Yet alas! The moment I reached the squares, my friends sought me out, all shouting: “I want my fry! I’m your friend Ein! Surely!”

I smuggled the fries under my jacket, holding it as if it were a newborn baby. I was chased by my supposed friends, starving seagulls at the Sydney Opera House. I sprinted across the oval… then past the bubblers… over the Year 7s playing handball… and behind the lockers.

I still heard them.

“EIN!”

Always the fries. 

I sneaked downstairs, where the silver elevator door was before me. I kept my head down, crouching in the shadows, savouring every nibble of my fries. For one glorious moment, every bite tasted like victory! What a wonderful world—

Ding!

A teacher walked out of the elevator, turned around and saw me. “Hey, what are you doing over here?”

He looked at me suspiciously. Wasn’t hiding beside an elevator with fries under your jacket perfectly normal behaviour? I froze… completely. He shrugged. He walked on.

At that exact moment, a handball bounced down the stairs. “THERE HE IS!”