Jasmine sat alone near the middle section with a standard metal tray.
Rice.
Beans.
Vegetables.
Chicken.
A bread roll.
She opened her phone beneath the table to read Leah’s message.
SAVE ME A COOKIE IF THEY HAVE THEM.
Jasmine replied:
PAY CASH.
Across the cafeteria, Connor sat with three friends.
He had learned that morning he would not start in the upcoming spring football showcase because a coach wanted to evaluate another defensive lineman.
That had nothing to do with Jasmine.
He was already angry.
One teammate later remembered Connor watching Jasmine.
“Leave it,” the teammate said.
Connor smiled.
“Leave what?”
Nobody answered.
At 12:11, he stood.
His friend Tyler Nash asked where he was going.
Connor said:
“To say hi.”
Tyler did not believe him.
He did not stop him either.
Connor approached from behind.
Jasmine did not see.
The first phone video began accidentally because a student across the room had been filming friends.
Connor stopped directly behind Jasmine’s chair.
He looked down.
“Enjoying lunch?”
Jasmine turned slightly.
Her expression changed immediately.
“Go away.”
“Damn.”
Connor smiled.
“Friendly.”
“I’m eating.”
“I can see.”
Jasmine returned to the tray.
Connor placed one hand on the back of her chair.
“You know what your problem is?”
Jasmine did not look up.
“I don’t care.”
“You think because everyone’s scared to say anything to you, you run this place.”
She put down the fork.
“Walk away.”
Connor laughed.
“See?”
Several students nearby started listening.
Jasmine felt it.
Audience.
The thing Connor liked when he thought he controlled it.
“Connor.”
She looked directly at him.
“I am not doing this today.”
“Because you’re above it?”
“No.”
“Because you’re always the victim?”
Jasmine exhaled.
“Move.”
Connor leaned down.
“You got my family dragged into your little race exhibit.”
“The school wrote that panel.”
“Because of you.”
“My grandfather is in the record.”
“So is mine.”
“Yes.”
“You think that makes him some racist monster.”
“I have never said that.”
“Bullshit.”
Jasmine stood halfway.
Connor placed one hand on her shoulder.
She immediately looked at it.
“Take your hand off me.”
Several students reacted.
Connor smiled.
“Relax.”
Jasmine removed his hand.
“Do not touch me.”
He stepped behind her again.
She began standing.
That was when Connor grabbed the back of her neck and shoulder.
Fast.
Hard.
Before Jasmine could fully turn, he drove her forward.
Her face hit the cafeteria tray.
Rice scattered.
Beans and sauce splashed across the table.
Her forehead and cheek pressed into the food.
Students shouted.
Connor held her down for perhaps two seconds.
Long enough.
Food slid over the edge of the tray.
Onto the table.
Onto Jasmine’s white shirt.
Connor released her.
He laughed.