Cakesniffer!

A vig for fanfic100. Posted awhile ago at my creativity LJ, link in my profile. (Yes, that is shameless advertising.) So if you have an LJ, friend it and you'll totally get easy access to updates. Hee hee. Anyway, merry Christmas. I'll try to write a Christmas vig later as a belated gift to you guys.

The room had gray walls with big windows and lots of blue-and-gray tables. The windows provided an uninspiring view of the play-yard and beyond that, houses with children who were free, not trapped like the children in the Prufrock Preperatory School's cafeteria.

Isadora Quagmire craned her neck, trying to find a place to sit. As it is with most schools, the cafeteria was short a few tables. Maybe it was a plot to humiliate unpopular students.

She caught the eye of an unpleasant looking girl with red corkscrew curls and a thin, pointed nose. Isadora elbowed Duncan, who followed her gaze. Sadly, he mistook her meaning and did something that was in complete violation of school social etiquette.

He moved to go sit with her.

Isadora wondered if she should commit an act of social suicide and follow, or hang back and watch him be thrown into the depths of Geek Kingdom. But he was her brother, and brothers came before social status, no matter how fatal following suit with them could be.

The girl's lip curled as the triplets approached her, and with every millicentimeter upward the lip went, Isadora's heart sank further downward. I will die of humiliation.

Duncan plunked his tray down next to the girl, and she smirked openly. "That seat is taken, cakesniffer," she snarled. To prove her nonexistant point, she lifted a knobby leg up and dropped it on the bench, as if saving it for someone who was obviously not coming.

"You tell them, Carmelita," said another equally unpleasant-looking girl. She was staring at the girl - Carmelita - with obvious adoration. It made Isadora sick. Duncan, come on. Can we just go find an empty table?

Duncan blinked his large eyes. "Really? Doesn't look like anyone sits here." Carmelita giggled. It sounded very nasal. "My leg does, cakesniffer."

Cakesniffer?

"Duncan..." Isadora hissed, blushing. While she didn't really care what others thought of her, this was getting sort of embarrassing. "People are starting to stare." She swung her head around to see how bad the damage was, and bit her lip when she saw that over half the cafeteria had dropped their food and were now watching the drama unfold.

"Cakesniffer?" Duncan asked curiously. He just didn't know when he was beaten.

"Yes, cakesniffer." Carmelita now wore a look of long-suffering, as if she was dealing with someone who didn't know their head from their elbow. "That's what you are. And your twin over there."

Twin.

"I'm not a twin," Isadora said heatedly.

"The cakesniffer speaks," said a large boy who was eating with his hands.

"Cake-sniff-er," Carmelita ignored Isadora's comment and drew out the word for all to hear. "Cakesniffer. Cakesniffer. Cakesniffer."

"Cakesniffer. Cakesniffer. Cakesniffer," the entire cafeteria chanted. Even the teacher on duty. Isadora felt a flush warm her pale cheeks. This was very, very bad. She was going to die. Could you die of embarrassment? Maybe the heart just stopped beating. Maybe the body suffered heat overload from blushing.

Isadora closed her eyes, but when she opened them, the cafeteria was still chanting and Carmelita and her crowd were still laughing.

"Come on, Duncan," she said, turning her head away. They wouldn't see her cry. Not over them.

Duncan pressed his lips together, ready to lash back at them, but he followed his triplet over to an empty table in the corner.

Cakesniffer.

-fin-