The cafeteria hummed with the usual morning chaos. Trays clattered, chatter bounced off the walls, and the smell of questionable eggs mingled with syrup-drenched pancakes. Ava, the bighorn sheep, was nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee while pretending to be engrossed in her biology homework. In reality, her ears were twitching to catch every sliver of gossip coming from her tablemates.
Her group had claimed a prime spot—a table near the windows, far enough from the food line to avoid the worst of the crowd but close enough to see everything worth seeing.
Lila, the snow sheep, was poking at a bowl of fruit with a delicate frown. She always ate like she was auditioning for some chic dietary vlog, though she had a tendency to ruin it by ordering a side of greasy hash browns. "Do you see her?" she asked, squinting toward the back of the cafeteria. "I swear there's a girl over there who looks like one of my cousins. Or maybe… I don't know, she kind of looks domestic."
"Domestic?" snorted Naya, the audad sheep, barely looking up from her croissant sandwich. "What does that even mean? Are you saying she's, like, a farm girl or something?"
"She's just fluffy," Lila said defensively, her fork pausing midair. "You know how domestic sheep always look… soft."
"Soft like what?" Bharti, the blue sheep, piped up, her voice thick with sarcasm. She was leaning back in her chair, popping blueberries into her mouth one by one. "Like your brain?"
Lila glared. "I'm just saying, she doesn't look like she belongs here."
"That's rich, coming from you," retorted Zara, the stone sheep, who was meticulously peeling the label off her water bottle. Her dark eyes flicked up briefly to meet Lila's before returning to her task. "You've spent the last fifteen minutes dissecting a fruit salad like it's a science project. Maybe you don't belong here."
"Can we not?" Ava cut in, setting her coffee down with a thud. "What are we even talking about? Lila saw someone she thinks looks weird. Big deal."
"Not weird," Lila huffed. "Just… out of place. Whatever, forget I said anything."
But Ava wasn't going to forget. Not yet. Her eyes followed Lila's line of sight to the back of the cafeteria. It was hard to see through the sea of moving bodies, but there was a girl sitting alone—or at least, she looked like she was alone. Something about her posture, the way she hunched over her tray like she was guarding it, made Ava pause.
"Probably no one important," Bharti said, catching Ava's gaze and flicking a piece of blueberry skin in her direction. "The real show's over there, anyway." She nodded toward the center of the cafeteria, where the tension was almost tangible.
Two groups were locked in a silent war, their leaders glaring at each other from opposite ends of the room. On one side was Mouflon, her perfect curls framing a face that could've been carved out of marble. On the other was Urial, all sharp angles and fiery eyes, her entourage buzzing around her like bees ready to sting.
"What even happened between them?" Naya asked, breaking off a piece of her sandwich and popping it into her mouth.
"Who cares?" Zara muttered. "It's probably over something stupid. It always is with girls like them."
"Stupid?" Bharti arched a brow, looking almost offended on their behalf. "Excuse me, but this is the kind of drama that fuels the ecosystem. Without it, we'd be stuck talking about…" She waved a hand vaguely. "I don't know. Homework?"
"Speaking of which," Ava said, pulling her notebook closer. "Did anyone actually do the chemistry assignment? Because I swear I'm about to fail that class."
"Maybe if you spent less time eavesdropping and more time studying," Lila said sweetly, though her smirk gave her away.
"Oh, don't even start," Ava shot back. "You've been staring at that same piece of melon for five minutes. Are you going to eat it or propose to it?"
"Focus, people," Naya said, holding up her hand like a traffic cop. "We're talking about Mouflon and Urial. Mouflon's group is obviously winning, by the way. Look at them. They're practically glowing."
"They're glowing because they're fake," Zara said, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's like they've been sprayed with that cheap glitter mist from the drugstore. You get too close, and suddenly you're sparkly for a week."
"That's rich, coming from someone who refuses to wear mascara," Bharti teased, tossing another blueberry into her mouth.
"Maybe because I don't need it," Zara retorted. "Some of us don't have to cake our faces to look good."
"Please," Lila interjected, rolling her eyes. "Mouflon's not fake. She's just… elevated. Like, she knows how to present herself."
"Oh, sure," Zara said. "And Urial's just misunderstood, right? Give me a break. They're both playing the same game. Mouflon just happens to be better at it."
"Better?" Naya snorted. "Urial's the one with the killer comebacks. Did you hear what she said to Mouflon last week? Something about how 'not everyone can afford to wear desperation like it's designer.'"
"That's harsh," Bharti said, though she didn't sound disapproving. "Points for creativity, though."
"Points for having the guts to say it," Naya added. "Mouflon didn't even respond. She just did that thing where she looks at you like you're gum stuck to her shoe."
"She doesn't have to respond," Lila argued. "Her silence speaks volumes."
"Oh, please," Zara said, finally abandoning her water bottle label. "Her silence is her realizing she doesn't have a good comeback. If Mouflon were really as confident as she pretends to be, she wouldn't need a flock of followers to back her up."
"And Urial doesn't have a flock?" Bharti shot back. "They're literally the same person, Zara. You just don't like Mouflon because she's prettier."
"Prettier?" Zara's tone was icy. "She's a walking airbrush ad. I'll take Urial's 'I just rolled out of bed and still look amazing' vibe any day."
"Okay, but Mouflon is prettier," Lila said, her voice matter-of-fact. "I mean, let's be real."
The table fell into a brief, contemplative silence, broken only by the clatter of trays and the dull roar of the cafeteria. Ava took the opportunity to glance back at the girl Lila had mentioned earlier, but she was still hard to see.
"Do you think they're ever going to make up?" Naya asked, breaking the silence.
"Why would they?" Zara replied. "They've got nothing to gain from being friends again. The drama is way more entertaining."
"Not for their lackeys," Bharti said, gesturing toward the two groups. "Look at them. They're practically sweating trying to keep up with the insults. I bet half of them don't even know what they're fighting about anymore."
"Are they fighting over that ram from the track team?"
"No way. Mouflon would never stoop that low. It's probably something petty, like who looked better in last weekend's party photos."
"They're fighting because it's fun," Lila said, finally eating her melon. "Who needs a reason?"
"Fun?" Ava repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You think it's fun to tear someone down?"
"Sure," Lila said with a shrug. "As long as it's not happening to me."
"That's disgusting," Zara said, though her smirk suggested she didn't entirely disagree.
"Welcome to high school," Naya said, raising her sandwich like a toast.
The conversation drifted after that, turning to an upcoming party at someone's lake house. Ava pretended to listen, nodding and throwing in the occasional "sounds great" while her attention kept slipping back to the cafeteria's chaos.
Mouflon was laughing now, tossing her hair back like she didn't have a care in the world. Urial, on the other hand, looked like she was plotting a murder—sharp, calculating, her fingers drumming against the table in a way that made Ava's skin crawl.
"She's so cool," one of them said, chin propped on her hand as she watched mouflon flip her hair and laugh loudly at something. "She doesn't care about anyone's opinion."
"She cares about her own a little too much," another hissed, her ears flicking in annoyance. "That whole tortured-rebel thing is just an act. Trust me, my cousin said she cried for, like, two hours when someone called her outfit basic last weak"
The first girl sighed, ignoring the critique. "Still. She makes it work."
The girl at the back of the cafeteria, the one Lila had mentioned earlier, was still there. Still hunched over her tray, still distant. Ava found herself wondering who she was and why she felt so out of place. But before she could think too much about it, Zara snapped her fingers in front of her face.
"Earth to Ava," she said. "You coming to this party or what?"
"Yeah, sure," Ava said automatically, though she wasn't sure she meant it.
Because while everyone else was busy tearing each other apart, Ava couldn't shake the feeling that there was something—or someone—lurking in the background, watching and waiting. And whoever they were, they weren't part of this food chain of herbivores; they had a different aura to them, and there were 2 of them in this room.