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Lunch at Barren Pines was hardly something to look forward to for Giselle.

Her mother was a cook, not quite a chef, but her meals were better than the ones served at Barren Pines, partially because she was not cooking for about sixty people. Food here was edible, but hardly ever really enjoyable, and what made it harder was that Giselle was the kind of girl who wasn't used to eating three meals a day. She was the sort who was better off snacking, and three solid meals threw her off balance. She really couldn't wait to go home for Thanksgiving, because there she had all the snacks she needed, and nobody shot her funny glances when she asked for things like goat cheese.

However, this was not what she hated most about lunch. What she hated most about lunch was waiting in line, because she would have to listen to the conversations around her no matter who she was stuck between, and they were usually hardly thrilling. Even at a prestigious school like Barren Pines, people still managed to do things like enjoy Twilight and giggle like their heads were full of helium. But today, she was not behind any such people, and she was looking forward to a quiet lunch as she waited for whatever they happened to be serving. If the food was just going to be average, at least the line wouldn't be too bad.

Oh, how wrong she was.

Despite Giselle's tendency to make snap judgements and dislike people for more or less insignificant reasons, there were few people that she would not at least be courteous to. Even if she deemed them worthless, there was always that niggling shadow of doubt that made politeness wise in case her enemy one day was her ally the next. Tara, however, was a special exception, and had been since almost the first week they had arrived at Barren Pines as freshmen.

As she was bumped into, she turned around. "Oh, it's quite-"

She trailed off and frowned, her displeasure clear on her face. "...All right." Glancing down at the box, she remarked "It may be just me, but at least I've grown out of playing with my food."

"And if you went beyond what you knew, you would learn a word called famine, that's f-a-m-i-n-e, and if you read your history, you would know just how devastating it can be." Famine was good for political upheaval, but that was about it. "When I see someone playing with their food, I, ah, discover that they don't know the bread they're poking holes in was the same food that caused a revolution in France."

This argument was just a battle in the ongoing war, not a meeting passed when at least one of them didn't leave with ruffled feathers. Giselle couldn't help that Tara was the most thickheaded simpleton who ever claimed to be thinking of the future good. Everyone, even babies knew that you had to to look to the past to inform your decisions about the future. Just charging ahead with science lead to things like nuclear war, which she had to admit was an intriguing concept, but risky business if humanity was hoping for longterm survival.

"Anyway, since I know about famine, I know better than to play with my food. I would ask you to go beyond what you knew as well, but after three years, it appears to be, ha, beyond you."

Of course, whenever they butted heads, hypocrisy ran rampant.

"If they throw out so much, perhaps you can conduct your experiments in the garbage," Giselle suggested curtly, moving up the line. "As for revolution, if you read your history, you would find that revolution is a form of evolution, of social and political evolution. Asking society to accept evolution immediately once it was theorized would be like asking early man to write a novel. If you could make connections, maybe you would notice these things."

She reached the front of the line and said "Pork, please," but unfortunately, it didn't stop there. As they were both in Pneumonia House, Tara And Giselle were obliged to sit with each other as they ate. Though they usually sat as far away from each other as possible, if Giselle had just launched a clever rebuttal, it was more than likely that Tara would follow her to strike back.

Giselle frowned. "I'm sure that garbage would not make you any more susceptible to food poisoning, Tara." she retorted evenly.

"And if you do, I'll be sure to write a monograph about it. Nothing would please me more than you being on a frozen rock lightyears away from here." Hmphing just as obviously as Tara, she headed to the table as well. She was aiming for the chair she usually sat in- and ending up trying to sit down at it at the same time Tara did.

"Excuse me," Giselle snapped icily, "I believe I have historical precedence for sitting in this chair."

"I beg your pardon. I merely thought that some sort of evolutionary accident had altered your stomach. Don't you eat your mistakes?"

She let out a short laugh. "Actually, I believe I was here first. I did leave the line first, and walk over to the table first, and if we must get technical, I was also here yesterday and the day before. But as it is, I arrived at the chair approximately half a second before you." And with that, she set her own tray in her lap and sat down in the chair herself. "As for being childish, I'm merely encouraging you to expand your horizons over to a new part of the table. I'm reminding you of your own advice, as it were." She gave her a wide and contrived smile, then said "So if you would just scooch your tray over..."

"History offers plenty of opportunities for learning as well. Most of them do not involve massive property damage." At least not from learning about it. In cases such as the Great Fire of London, massive property damage had certainly been involved at one point. However, she knew all about Tara's misadventures, and probably had dreams at night about her expulsion.

"N-" Before she could begin her rebuttal, Tara had jumped on the table, and Giselle looked nothing short of highly affronted. Cheerleaders were synonymous with idiots, but it didn't change the fact that Giselle could not jump so easily on a table, and it made the affair a double-affront.

Pushing her tray up against Tara's she replied "Indeed." in a tone of voice that made it synonymous with 'I am imagining you choking.'

Giselle attempted to stare Tara into oblivion, but as this did not work, she settled down to her lunch. It was a draw. She could not leave the chair, and pushing Tara off the table would be unnecessarily frivolous. She would win next time. Next time, when Tara didn't have anything to jump on. She had the intellectual advantage, after all. And Tara had not won, which was the important thing. Giselle had not moved and had not been outwitted.

For now she ate her lunch.