4

                                    

                                          
THE NERD FACTION was the first thing I spotted in the cafeteria. 
                          
I spotted them from miles away. There were three of them, and they all had their heads buried in books. I gulped, allowing my eyes to indulge the rest of the cafeteria. 
                          
Not too far from the window, I identified a group of people dressed in button downs, seemingly deep in discussion. They wore expressions so serious one would have no choice but to assume these were the future politicians of our society. I decided at that moment that I would attempt to name these factions, so to speak. I nicknamed the formal attired people 'Future Politicians'.  
                          
Towards the centre, I spotted a distinct group of males. One of them was twirling a basketball, another one talking about 'the best touchdown in history'. They cracked sexist jokes and laughed collectively as one caveman entity. My eyes didn't linger on them for long - I labelled them 'Athletically Inclined'. 
                          
Table to table, I identified 'Hipsters', 'Fake-nice People', 'Artistic Introverts', 'Feminists and Meninists', 'Occult Lovers', 'Really Too Rich To Care About Factions'... I came to realization that the factions system had been flawlessly executed, there wasn't a single soul out of place.  
                          
But it felt wrong. 
                          
The fragmentation of the student body, it wasn't a naturally occurring phenomenon. It felt wrong - so wrong. I understood where the council was coming from. Where the amalgamation of students engendered a bunch of social issues, segmentation of the student body wasn't exactly the right way to go about it. Or was it?
                          
I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that this school would control it's students right down to the friends they chose.
                          
Pictures of Richmond Park Academy did no justice to this place. Their cafeteria was tastefully designed, with the right blend of chic meets Victorian era. My eyes trailed the vertical garden on one wall, shooting upwards and ending in airy skylight. The floors tiles had elaborate patterns that added character to the cafeteria. There were students scattered around the enclosed space, seated on cushioned chairs that matched the hardwood tables. But of course, I leave the best for last - the smell of food, combined with a stomach that hadn't eaten in over eight hours, left me in a salivating mess.
                          
I dug into the pockets of my sweat pants, found a twenty dollar bill and proceeded to buy myself a feast. 
                          
The Faction Fivers, or the nerds (as affectionately coined by yours truly) glanced up as I drew near. Their eyes held curiosity, the kind that made scientific advancements and technological singularity possible. I beheld the faces of our country's thinkers. 
                          
These were the people who helped window wash Richmond Park Academy. I recognized one of them from the school's website. I belatedly came to realization that the people before my eyes were the furthest thing from normal. They were of "Winner of Perennial Math Competition 2017", "Winner of Google Science Fair 2016", "Science Prodigy 2017" archetype. And I felt a stab of awe (or envy) pierce my chest. It was inadequacy at it's very finest. 
                          
The longer I stared, the more something stood out to me. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that these people weren't smiling. They were missing the artificial smiles that they pasted on for the school's website. There was a tangible air of hostility, silent 'who the fuck is she's, and an impatience that was beginning to crackle. 
                          
Against the unfriendliness dressed in thick glasses and mismatched clothing, I succumbed to an urge that overpowered my fear of mortifying outcomes - it was an urge to have friends in this place. 
                          
With shaky hands, I placed my tray of food down. "Hey friends. What's up?"
                          
"What's up," the darker skinned male echoed condescendingly. "What are you?"