Coming of Edge 5: Snakes on a Plate

Mél poked at her pasta. Her best friends, Gisele and Inés, were vigorously discussing the newest episodes of Impostor Child, totally not eating their lunch either, but for entirely different reasons. They essentially revealed the entire plot of the latest season during their lunch break.

It felt unfair. Her parents did have the money to pay for a subscription but they were also very strict about media consumption. She loved both her friends endlessly but it was frustrating not to be a part of this. Still, she could not bring it up, both were so excited. She listened as they discussed how Yu-yun had betrayed Aneli and how Aneli’s friend Erica had exposed him for that in school and how Yu-yun had wanted to take revenge on Erica but fell in love with her instead, which Aneli found out about in the finale.

Staring at her meal as a distraction did not pan out any longer. Her pasta did not get more appetizing by moving it around randomly. She let her eyes wander across the cafeteria. At another table there was this boy she really liked, Benjamin, an 18-year-old senior in Lycée, amidst his friends. They were talking and eating; their laughter drifted over to where she was sitting. She felt a flutter as a beaming smile turned his entire face into the promise of fun and adventure. Afraid she could be seen staring at him, her eyes went wandering again.

Another boy sitting alone came into view on the other side of the room. She had seen him a few times but did not know him. For the first time Mél took an interest, not knowing exactly why. He was not particularly ugly or good-looking. His clothes were pretty much casual and common. She could not even say he had no style, he just seemed very unremarkable.

The boy was immersed in reading, occasionally surfacing to push a big wad of pasta into his mouth. ‘Who are you?’ Mél thought. Asking this she felt like reaching out with her mind, nudging him to answer. Tendrils of her consciousness wafting over to the boy without matter or visibility. She felt herself connecting with something tangible. It was squishy and warm. The soft tissue was made of little bulbous tubes clotting together. She held the mass of it gently, much like a chunk of fresh, raw, bloody meat.

She then traced the tubes, followed their paths. At some points there was a tickle, and the intensity of it was elevating. She imagined electricity would crackle like that. As she was feeling and visualizing, she playfully imagined the tubes to be more like snakes – venomous, dangerous snakes writhing in a pit. The snakes unable to harm her, she would joyfully push her tendrils into the tangle and explore further.
She wondered if she was becoming smaller, the spaces and distances grew larger. So she would propel herself to one of the larger bulbs. It occasionally lighted up and as she’d touch it a pleasant spark would ignite in her. She’d do it again and again, every time rewarded by that pleasant, sensual sensation. She wanted more – more intensity. The craving grew. She choked the bulb hard; a heavy jolt crawled like a slow shock through her.
A sudden warmth exploded in her groin, her muscles tensed and she forgot to breathe. Her mind was flushed with exhilaration and dissociation.

When she slowly emerged from the experience, she found her breathing going heavier. She felt feverish. Sweat made her underwear stick. Mél realized that she still was staring at that boy. He had stopped reading. He had stopped eating. He disbelievingly stared at his plate, his eyes wide in fear and horror. He clumsily tried to rise from his chair; he wanted to run. He was not well, retching. He looked like he was going to –

He puked.

Mél was relieved that everybody else was focusing on the boy. Pupils near him were trying to get away. Other pupils had started laughing. Most just stared in shock and fascination.

The boy kept looking at the table in terror. He then took all the strength he could muster and flipped the table over, letting puke and pasta and his reader fly. Then he looked up, bewildered, and directly into her eyes – he froze for a brief moment. Somehow he knew. He knew that she had done something. A shiver ran across her back as the boy scrambled out of the cafeteria.

“Mél? Mélanie!” As she turned both her friends were looking at her, grinning. “What is it?”, she answered, hoping her voice could cover her current vulnerability.

“Are you falling in love, or what?” Inés teased her with a smile and Gisele giggled.

“What? Eww. No! That boy just vomited all over that table. It’s disgusting!” Mélanie stuck her tongue out and grimaced.

The other girls laughed. Gisele said, “He really must be sick. He did not even make it to the restrooms.”
“And he has anger issues,” Inés added, “why would he knock over the table like that?”

“What a weirdo,” Mél chimed in coolly, trying to avert any attention someone else might give her. They watched a tutor coming in and the janitor directly in tow. Both took a look at the mess the boy had left behind. Then the tutor tried to steer pupils away and to establish normalcy. The janitor started cleaning with an annoyed face and a heavy sigh.

Relative tranquility returned to the cafeteria. Some giggles could be heard here and there and of course people were talking vividly. Quite a lot of half-eaten meals were left unfinished; the smell was hideous and it did not improve when the cleaning disinfectant was added to the mix. Mél was thankful for the sensory diversion. Her excitement subsided slowly, watching the janitor removing the mess.

“Let’s have a sleepover this weekend.” Gisele proposed, returning to the things that really mattered. “My parents will be on a short trip to Lausanne, soooo we’ll stay up the whole night and watch the whole season together.” She looked at Mél and the warmth and care in her expression was proof enough for Mél to understand that they truly saw her, knowing well that they needed to stick together when their parents employed their idiotic rules.

A bit later they returned to their classrooms. As today’s HGGSP lesson progressed rather boringly, she felt her mind wandering back to what had happened at her lunch break. She was sure that she had done something to the boy. And that something felt intimate, forbidden, violating. It also had been so overwhelming that she wanted to feel it again – that rush, the excitement, the release. It had been like a magnificent orgasm, multiplied by a thousand, and it still was not close to it.

She tried to reproduce it. Stared at people, imagined tendrils, but nothing happened.

As she was heading for the exit after school, saying bye to her friends, she was almost sure she spotted the boy from lunch in the street. But as she stepped outside into the rather warm and sunny air, he was not there. As usual she ambled down the Rue Gatien-Arnoult, past the Basilique Saint-Sernin to the Rue de Taur. Passing the Cinémathèque she looked at the ads for next week’s program.

Suddenly someone assaulted her and pulled her into a dark entryway. Her attacker was swift and bigger and heavier. She tried to resist, kicked and squealed. She felt herself being pushed against a wall, her arms pinned down. “Stop! I won’t hurt you!” the attacker said.

Her heart felt like it was going to tear through her chest. Her breathing was heavy and the adrenaline kept her on edge, ready to do whatever was necessary to survive. But for now she feigned calm and managed to look at her attacker.

It was the boy who had puked.

His eyes were distraught, his breathing as agitated as hers. Small beads of sweat clung to his forehead.

“You are one of them! Those sighting are real.” He managed breathlessly.

He let go of her and laughed. It was a small chuckle first but it ended in a joyful release. He squatted down next to her and leaned against the wall.

His grin was a promise of fun and adventure.
“Do it again.”

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