"So you're saying that when I eat those banana muffins from the dollar store, I'm not really eating banana muffin flavored edible plastic?"

Lucas, Justin, and I are all sitting at a picnic table during lunch exchanging random facts with each other. Most of Lucas and Justin's facts have been really weird like, 'The directors of the film Despicable Me actually wrote their own language for the Minions called Minionise' and 'There is an uninhabited island in the Bahamas known as Pig Beach, which is populated entirely by swimming pigs'.

"Nope! Well, yes, but just a different type," Lucas replies.

Apparently, the reason the taste of artificial banana flavoring and artificial banana flavored products don't taste like bananas is that the type of banana the flavoring is based on was wiped out by a plague in the 1950s.

I'm not sure why that fact is useful...but at least some people can have peace of mind.

"I think my whole life was a lie," Justin murmurs.

I turn to face the boy with a curious look. "Because the dollar store muffins are flavored with an extinct banana?"

"Extinct?" Lucas questions.

"I don't know what word people use!" I snap.

"Paris, you don't understand. That plastic is one of my favorite kinds of food!" Justin replies desperately. "It's my lifeline! It's my best friend! It's my child! In fact, I have one with me right now!"

"Child?" I question.

"Best friend?" Lucas stares at Justin in disbelief. "I thought I was your best friend!"

"After you, of course," Justin returns with a smile.

"So the fact that they're based on a different type of banana worries you more than when you found out there's actual plastic inside those muffins?" I ask.

ｐｌａｓｔｉｃ

A 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭

ｐｌａｓｔｉｃ

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

Just when I thought he couldn't lose any more brain cells.

Who am I kidding? Who said he ever had any? This is just getting too frustrating.

"Paris, everyone knows plastic is edible. It just requires a kinda...bon taste," the redhead replies with a French accent.

The definition technically doesn't say it's not edible...and Justin is still alive...

But that is what's furthest from my mind.

"Did you just French me?"

"Yes?"

"OH, SO YOU WANT TO DO THAT HERE, HUH?" I rise suddenly to my feet, staring down at the two boys.

"Paris, calm down—"

"NEVER," I cut Lucas off. "Oh, look, you dropped something," I say to Justin.

"What did I drop?" he asks innocently.

"Your brain cell—oh wait, you didn't have any to drop."

It's a bit low, but the only thing I can come up with. Especially with my head feeling like exploding.

"How in the whole wide world can you drop a brain cell?" He looks at me as though I have just admitted to being in love with our school's frozen vegetables.

He just loves pushing my buttons.

"It seems I should be asking you!" I shoot back.

"Why? You're the one who knew about it."

"And you're the one who did it!"

"How could I have done it without realizing it?"

"Because you don't have any brain cells." I cross my arms and stare down at the boy, by figure casting a shadow upon him.

"That's not what my mom says," he returns, completely ignoring my intimidating stare. "She says I have exactly 1.359."

"You do know you're supposed to have like 100 billion brain cells by the time you're an adult, right?"

"And how am I supposed to attain these brain cells when you can only find them on the black market? Paris, I'm not a suspicious character in a dark alley."

"Technically, the black market only has astrocytes," a voice says from in front of me. "But I'm sure they have oligodendrocytes up the coast."

I hadn't noticed that Collin had come up behind the boys. He's wearing his special class president uniform with his tie scrunched up tightly to his neck. It kinda looks like he's going to choke.

And die.

At least there would be no one to interrupt my important conversations.

"What do you want, Myrick?" Lucas and I say together.

"Sorry for interrupting your very intelligent conversation, Andrist," Collin returns, ignoring Lucas as he walks around the table to stand beside me.

"First of all, it was an intelligent conversation. At least one side of it was. And second of all—don't call me Andrist. I hate that name."

"Okay! Okay!" He laughs with his hands in the air. I can see Lucas glaring at him from the corner of my eye.

Before any awkwardness can bloom, Justin stands up and says, "I have to go. See you after school, Lucas?"

I stare at him suspiciously.

This is the third time this week he's had to leave suddenly. It's still lunchtime, so what does he need to do during his favorite period?

Before I can begin to interrogate him, Lucas speaks.

"Sorry, man," Lucas begins, rising next to him. "I have a performance at some rich girl's Quinceañera." He suddenly turns to me. "You know, you should come, Paris! Her dad's really nice. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Did you just invite me to a stranger's Quinceañera?" I question.

"She can't," Collin cuts in, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "We have a big project we're working on after school."

I push him away. "No, we don't." I stare at his expression as he tells me with his eyes, 'What are you doing? I was trying to save you!'. I glare back with a stare that I hope portrays how serious I am. 'I don't lie,' I say without words. 'One lie isn't going to hurt anyone,' he returns by a show of him rolling his eyes.

"Paris must have forgotten about it and how very important it is. Sorry, buddy."

"Don't call me 'buddy'," Lucas growls.

"Sorry, dude. Catch you later. Or never." He grabs my wrist and starts pulling me away, glancing down at me. 'See? You didn't even have to lie.' He faces back forward and concentrates on leading us to who knows where.

I turn and angle my wrist so that the side is faced the small gap where his thumb meets his fingers. Then I quickly slip my wrist away without him realizing. I fold my arms as he continues on, him still thinking I'm following behind. Then I turn back to Lucas and say, "Let's go crash a stranger's Quinceañera."