Edward could feel the itch--he was an addict, he knew it plenty well. Even walking to lunch, his mind skimmed over what he had to do, what classes were next, whether or not he could reasonably skip them ... not caring wasn't the same as being stupid, after all, and even if he just skirted by with low D's in most of his courses, he figured he'd be graduating at the end of the year, getting his diploma and ... well, he'd figure it out. He'd worked this hard to get through high school, after all, and he wasn't going to let his time just be wasted without anything to show for it, even if it was just a scrap of paper that made job hunting a little easier.

So he felt like getting high but damn if his next class wasn't a required credit he'd failed Freshman and then Sophomore years, so he guessed he'd just need to wait. In his way, he skirted the edge of the lunch room, a brown paper bag clutched tightly in his hand as he dropped into an empty table far off in a corner--or, as far off as one could get in a high school. Although he ate his sandwich in simple silence, he watched lazily. Didn't care for most of the people here--it was a blessing and a curse, as his brother's death had finally started to quiet down around him, most of the people who'd known him having graduated or moved on, and he'd gotten far more a reputation as a druggie and a slacker than he had as the pitiful left over from from a car wreck, so hardly any strangers still felt the need to swing by and tell him how sorry they were, how much of a shame it was what happened to his brother, how they're here and they care and where were they when he was fine, huh? What were they doing before Jason died? Granted, Edward was never a socialite, chances were he wanted about as much to do with all of them as they did with the dark-haired, quiet little introvert in the library, but if they weren't his friends before Jason died they had no business trying to be after. Like they could ever fill that hole anyway.

HIs eyes caught sight of the one girl who might catch his eye--not in a romantic or sexual sense, much as it sounded, but she was one of the only other druggies he knew, and such a pretty little thing, young and already starting to crack around the edges. She seemed busy, though, and they definitely weren't close enough to actually warrant going over and talking to her--but should she catch his eye, he'd toss his head back in a lazy nod, and return to what he was doing.