It all started this morning.

We ran out of bread yesterday at my house, which meant that I couldn’t make my daily peanut butter sandwich. I figured, hey, no big deal: if I got hungry, I could just pick something up from the Mosaic.

So I went to school, the thrill of senior out singing in my veins. Like a sort of benign parasite, I jumped from group to group, staying within five feet of other people to avoid becoming vulnerable. I got to my first period class safely.

The rest of my friends were in a sort of frenzied, competitive panic. It started to get a little boring really. I was tired of my friends (literally) hanging off of me, pulling on my backpack or on my arm. I almost wanted to tell them that you had to be five feet away from someone, not five inches. But they were having fun, so I figured I would go along with it.

By lunch, I had given up. I couldn’t find my person, I had homework and all sorts of other things to worry about. Inevitably, without my sandwich, I hadn’t packed enough food and my stomach growled all throughout second period. So, without any body guards, I got up and went to the Mosaic.

A couple of my friends passed me and, ironically, asked me if I had gotten tagged out. Why else would I be walking on my own? I told them that I had been walking around by myself for a while, and I simply didn’t care. I didn’t think anyone would come near me anyway.

So I got a muffin, and was walking toward my third period class, munching happily on the high-caloric snack.

I was almost there, was just about to sit down and pull out my English homework.

We made eye contact. A funny, suspicious feeling forced my body to switch to my sympathetic nervous system (Psychology!). As she came towards me, I felt my heart rate increase, my mouth go dry, my body tense as it tried to decide – could I outrun her? What could I do? I was trapped.

So, I did the only thing that made sense.

When she was a few feet away from me, I threw my muffin at her in the hope of distracting her long enough to get away. It barely slowed her down.

“Tag!” Mimi Kennedy yelled, tapping my arm. I cursed, and thought briefly about arguing that she hadn’t touched me, she had touched my leather jacket, but it was no use.

I was out. And my muffin was decimated on the concrete.

Laughing, we exchanged tickets and talked about the person I had been trying to find. She apologized for the muffin, and I apologized for hitting her with it. A strange relief was coming over me. At least I didn’t have to worry about getting to my car later. I was safe, and all chances of getting a free prom ticket lay scattered amongst the remains of my muffin.