He'd never been denied permission to go to the cafeteria before. But as he texted one of his friends and roommates, Scott, he found that he was being told not to come rather than to meet him there. First of all, Scott didn't even go to the cafeteria that often. And secondly, why the fuck would it be a big deal if Booker showed up? While he wasn't necessarily miffed by the text, it threw him off, confused the hell out of him.
Scott was both straightforward and mind-boggling. Straightforward in that Booker knew exactly what to expect of him most of the time; if he wasn't in class or at work, he was likely lighting up in the apartment bathroom with a vent on before numbing his mind with whatever activity pleased him at the time. Music, more music, video games. Some new trippy television show that he'd insist the others watch to the point of practically forcing them. He was simultaneously out of his hair and in his face all the time, the sort of presence that demanded attention yet desired to be left alone.
But he was mind-boggling in that he sometimes didn't explain his straightforwardness, and Booker got weird texts like these. Anytime he wanted an explanation from the guy it was deflected, as if Scott liked to maintain some kind of odd mystery about him over the tiniest and stupidest things. Still, he knew his friend-- he knew he was mostly genuine, mostly honest in any situation. He wasn't a liar.
So he shrugged it off and redirected his attention to the student center instead, figuring he could get a meal with some of his remaining credit from his scholarship. Yet as he wandered up he accidentally cut in front of a short girl in line before noticing her. "Oh! Sorry, my bad." He said with a nod, stepping behind her instead. He nearly said he hadn't seen her there, but he supposed her height didn't need calling out. "Didn't mean to be rude."