“Valerie. . .” he said as he tried to stand up and stop her before she got away, but she had already left.  He sat back down and dipped his head for a second and exhaled.   He’d have to talk to her later. 

Geoff looked around the cafeteria.  The football player entourage was starting to leave their table as the only people who were left were the captain of the cheerleading team, a gorgeous platinum blonde with amazing legs and clear blue eyes, and her friend, a stunning redhead who, although she was a little bit more full figured than the team captain, looked a little bit older and more womanly and a little bit more attractive because of it.  They sat huddled together, giggling incessantly as they played with their little make-up compacts that were smaller than the palm of their hands and applied blush and mascara while looking in the small compact mirror.   Geoff sat facing them, leaning forward with his feet facing towards them so that he could look like he was paying attention to what they were doing.  “What’s up,” he asked with a hopeful expression on his face in a voice loud enough so that they could hear.

The girls looked up from their compacts and stared at Geoffrey for five seconds with their mouths open and a look of disgust on their faces before the redhead asked him, “What are you looking at, creep?”
Geoffrey waved his hands to them and shook his head as if to indicate that he was mistaken as he bowed his head and covered his face with his right hand.  He rubbed his hands through his hair, then crossed his fingers as the two cheerleaders got up, staring at Geoffrey with that same disgusted look and whispering to themselves.

*     *      *

Geoffrey sat there with his face in his hands and his elbows on the table as people left the cafeteria and went to class.  Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then a half an hour before he took his hands off his face and crossed his fingers in front of him.  He looked down at the table.  The cigarette that Valerie had left him was still there.  He dug in his pocket for his lighter as he picked the cigarette in his mouth.  He desperately needed a smoke.  He lit the cigarette, inhaling the nicotine fumes before leaning back.  He was hot, uncomfortable, and his feet hurt.  He took the turtleneck sweater off and put it on the table in front of him, untucking his undershirt then sliding the Eastlands off one foot at a time, leaving him in his sock feet.  Perhaps monotony wasn’t so bad, he thought to himself as he took the black socks off and put them in the shoes before getting up and walking off in his bare feet, leaving the sweater and shoes  there on the table.    He could be a loser for at least one more day.