I flipped open my Anatomy book, and pointed to a random word. “Platysma.”

“What’s that?” george asked.

“A broad, thin layer of muscle on each side of the neck that is used to control lower mouth and chin movements,” I explained.

george smiled. “Perfect!” He started scribbling in his notebook.

I shrugged and started picking at the glob of brown and orange mess on my lunch tray that was supposed to look, feel, and taste like mashed potatoes, carrots, and gravy.

It failed miserably.

I pushed my lunch tray away, when some nerds came up behind george and started screeching in their annoyingly-nerdy voices, “George! George with a capital G!”

I sighed at their extremely low social stature as george backed up his chair, knocked over the tray of one of the nerds, which started a chain effect of more nerds tripping, lunch trays flying everywhere, and a regular pandemonium of a food fight.

Me and george looked with delight at everyone screaming and flinging projectiles of lunch mush at each other, and left.