I'm starving

The cafeteria had emptied out after all the employees finished their meals very fast to avoid any problems considering their boss was around. The chatter and clinking of utensils was replaced by an eerie silence. Only three people remained: Ray, Joey, and Samira, who was still leisurely eating as if nothing had happened.

Ray sat at his table, lost in thought, replaying that moment in his mind when Samira had confessed the truth of her being a fake. He had been so angry, so hurt by her deception, but now, sitting here in the cafeteria, he felt something different. There was a tightness in his chest, a longing he couldn’t quite shake because he'd already been smitten by her the moment he laid eyes on her the very first time they met.

Joey, who had been watching his friend closely, finally snapped him out of his reverie. “Hey, man, what’s up with you?” he asked, nudging Ray with his elbow. “You’ve been staring at your food like it’s about to tell you the meaning of life.”

Ray blinked, shaking his head as if to clear it. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, though he knew Joey wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“Nothing? You’ve been acting weird ever since Samira walked in. What’s going on between you two?” Joey pressed, his eyes narrowing.

Ray sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”

Joey glanced over at Samira, who was still eating with an air of calmness around her. “She doesn’t seem too bothered by whatever’s going on.”

Ray’s jaw clenched. “She’s good at that—pretending like everything’s fine.”

“Pretending?” Joey echoed, his eyebrows raised. “Ray, if you’re still hung up on what happened because of her working, you can tell me. Maybe it’s time to talk to her. You’re not doing yourself any favors by stewing over it.”

Ray hesitated, his eyes drifting back to Samira. She was focused on her meal, but there was a tension in the set of her shoulders, a tension he knew all too well. He had seen it that day when she told him the truth about being a fake—beneath her calm exterior, there was a storm brewing.

Joey, sensing his friend’s hesitation, decided to take matters into his own hands. “Come on, let’s go sit with her,” he said, grabbing Ray by the arm and pulling him toward Samira’s table.

“Joey, wait—” Ray protested, but it was too late. They were already standing in front of Samira, who looked up at them with a mixture of surprise and suspicion.

“Mind if we join you?” Joey asked, not waiting for an answer as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

Samira glanced at Ray, who stood there awkwardly in his ironed suit, unsure of what to say. Finally, she shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Ray reluctantly sat down across from her, the tension between them so strong. Joey, who had noticed the obliviousness to the undercurrents and chillness around them, started chatting right away, trying to lighten the mood.

“So, Samira, what’s good here? I’m starving,” he said, eyeing her plate.

Samira smirked, picking up a fry. “Depends on your tolerance for cafeteria food. But the fries aren’t bad.”

Joey laughed, and for a moment, the tension eased. Ray found himself watching Samira again, wondering if there was a way to bridge the gap between them.

But before he could say anything, Joey turned to him with a grin. “Ray, you gonna keep brooding or actually join the conversation?”

“Ray,” she called icily, barely moving her lips as she uttered his name. Her eyes flashed with that familiar look of calmness inviting a storm, and Ray had to resist the urge to sigh.

Joey, poor Joey, looked between the two of them like he was caught in the middle of a Western showdown. His fork hovered mid-air, the piece of chicken on it suddenly far less interesting than the drama unfolding before him.

“I didn’t realize you’d be dropping by,” Samira said, her voice cool and controlled, though her eyes told a different story.

Ray smiled tightly, straightening himself onto the seat across from her. “I was in the area and thought I’d grab lunch.”

“At my workplace?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. “During lunch hour?”

Ray resisted the urge to squirm. “It’s a cafeteria. Last I checked, people come here to eat.”

Samira’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And yet, you’ve never felt the need to dine here before.”

“Maybe I’m branching out,” Ray replied, keeping his tone light. “Trying new things.”

Samira arched an eyebrow. “How adventurous of you.”

Joey, bless him, attempted to defuse the tension that was silently brewing around by stabbing his fork into his chicken with exaggerated enthusiasm. “This food is great, huh? Best chicken I’ve had all week.”

Neither Ray nor Samira acknowledged his words; their silent war of glares continued. If looks were weapons, they’d both be bleeding out on the cafeteria floor.Ray cleared his throat, deciding to switch tactics. “How’s work been?”“Busy,” Samira replied curtly. “Very busy. As you can see, I’m in the middle of lunch.”“I can see that,” Ray said, trying to ignore the way her words felt like barbed wire tightening around his neck. “But I thought I’d check in.”Samira’s eyes narrowed further, a feat Ray hadn’t thought possible until that moment. “You thought you’d check in,” she repeated slowly, her voice dripping with incredulity. “At my workplace. During lunch.”Ray opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, Joey’s fork clattered onto his plate, drawing their attention. He looked at Ray with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Before they came into the cafeteria a few minutes ago, he was stunned at first when his friend had shown up telling him he was here for lunch. He remembered how he’d awkwardly coughed while trying to hide his laughter because he had never known his best friend could start a stalking game, and that too stalking his own wife.