Eatin'

Max half walked, half glided into the cafeteria, looking around sadly at the half-dozen students scattered about, poking despairingly at their food, and rolled his eyes. Cafeteria food - although, admittedly, not the best on the planet - was edible, no matter what they said, and the needlessly forlorn attitude surrounding it annoyed him to no end.

He grabbed a chocolate-coffee muffin, two cartons of milk, a questionable looking chicken salad sandwich, and a bruised banana, paid, and sat down at the first empty table he came to. Eating, in his opinion, was a waste of time better occupied with things such as talking or reading, but it was sadly necessary; to stave off the boredom complied while beginning the digestive cycle, he normally found someone to talk to; but today no one seemed particularly inviting, so he sat alone.

He took a bite of the sandwich, decided it needed more salt, and did nothing about it. Today was, as always, a mediocre day; he was personally fine with this, but he always felt like he should want to strive to make it a good one. This annoyed him, as a lot of things seemed to do these days.

He yawned, opening the closest milk carton and taking a drink. Ah well. Nothing he could do about it until after lunch, anyway.

Max glanced up, bared his pearly whites in a smile, and motioned for her to sit down across from him. "No, I don't." A pause, as he took another drink of the milk and wrinkled his nose, turning the package over. What was in this stuff? "Maxwell Fairbairn, but you're implored to call me Max." He placed the milk back on the table gingerly, turning back to the blue girl and shrugging. "Maxwell sounds like the name of some company."

He took another bite of the sandwich, turning it over and deciding he must not have taste buds. "So, Celsius." A finger waggled absent-mindedly at her. "How ar- Celsius as in a temperature scale?" He raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and picked a chocolate chip off of the muffin.

"And a great deal prettier, as well." It really was a nice name, in Max's opinion. He didn't know exactly why he liked it, but that was true for a good deal of things, so he let the matter drop from his mind.

He took a large bite of the sandwich, chewing it twice and swallowing; the mashing of the foods was the stomach's job, and he didn't want it to get lazy or anything. "How are you, anyway - if it's still considered normal to ask after one's well being, that is." He rolled his eyes, not bothering to explain.