If someone had told Amara that the cafeteria would feel like the center of the universe today, one of those messy, noisy universes with too many eyes and too many mouths, she would've just stayed upstairs and eaten crackers behind the printer. Or pretended to type an email for forty minutes. Anything but this. Yet here she was, frozen near the doorway with her stale appetite and a growing headache.
The cafeteria looked the same as always, but something felt off. Maybe the air? No, it was probably her nerves doing jumping jacks inside her ribs. She scanned left and right, just to get her bearings, when someone suddenly tapped her shoulder.
"Amara!"
She almost yelped, actually, she did yelp, just a little. Then she spun around and squealed, "Oh my God, Sierra! Finally!" The relief in her voice came out embarrassingly loud. Whatever. She didn't care. Seeing Sierra felt like spotting a lifeboat after swimming alone in a storm.
