Becca

You spot Becca sitting alone at a table near the back corner of the cafeteria.

She’s slouched in her chair, looking thoroughly bored as she pokes at the sad, overcooked cafeteria pasta on her tray. Her short, messy blue hair is slightly tousled, and she’s wearing a half-unbuttoned school blouse with a faded black band tee underneath. One earbud is dangling from her ear while the other is still in, probably blasting some punk or rock music.

You grab both of your high-quality meals and walk over. When you approach, Becca glances up and gives you a lazy smirk.

“Hey, Becca. How’ve you been?” you ask casually.

She pulls out her earbud and leans back in her chair, looking you up and down with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Well, well… if it isn’t Mr. Casanova,” she says with a sharp, playful smirk. “You made me suck your dick the first time we met and then just ghost me? Real smooth, dude. I was starting to think you only wanted me for my mouth.”

She says it with clear sarcastic amusement in her voice, the kind that tells you she’s mostly joking… mostly.

You chuckle and set both fancy dinners down on her table. “Well, I’m here now. Figured I’d make up for it. I ended up with an extra gourmet meal tonight. Want to eat dinner together?”

Becca’s eyes widen slightly as she looks at the high-quality food. Steak, roasted vegetables, garlic bread, and a proper dessert, compared to her sad pasta it looked like heaven. Her tough exterior cracks.

“Shit… seriously?” She sits up straighter. “Hell yeah. I was about to throw this garbage away. Thanks, Jack. For real.”

You sit across from her and the two of you start eating. Becca is surprisingly good company, sarcastic, quick-witted, and full of dry humor. She teases you about school life, mocks the stuck-up popular girls, and even shares a couple of funny stories about getting caught sneaking out. The conversation flows easily, and you can tell she’s genuinely enjoying herself.

By the time both plates are mostly empty, Becca leans forward on her elbows, resting her chin on one hand. She gives you a coy, half-lidded look, her lips curling into a sly little smile.

“So… I got a free fancy dinner out of this. Feels like I owe you,” she says, her voice dropping a little lower, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “How should I repay you, huh?”

She bites her lower lip lightly, clearly enjoying teasing you.