Lukas felt like sleeping. The seconds began to drag on, turning into minutes, and possibly hours. After he finished his bit of woodwork, there simply was so little to . . . do. Eventually, after several straight sets, even Smash Bros begins to lose its high-octane luster. There comes a point when the game AI just gives up and starts repeating moves, becoming almost too easy to beat. Maybe he should up the difficulty to two . . .

Fortunately, he needn't dwell on such evil thoughts. The bell rang merrily, marking the beginning of the lunch promised by the counselors. Well enough, Lukas was getting a bit hungry. Scratch that, a lot hungry. Homesickness was a disease, and food was the cure. Good food, that is. He had no idea about what was being given to the students here, but something told him it wasn't going to be gyros and barbouni. Perhaps it would be too much to ask for his parents to send him something from home.