My sister is a genius singer and me, a worthless person without talent

"And then I'll have min pao, an avocado sandwich on whole wheat bread, a Caesar salad with extra dressing, a portion of lasagna... oh, and a chocolate tart for dessert! And an almond milk latte! And some fries on the side!"

"You really like talking about food, don't you Mary?"

"Yes," she said, her voice growing smaller.

"Don't worry, there's no need to be embarrassed, but you should moderate yourself or you'll gain weight."

"That's not a problem. I usually only have one meal every three days and just drink water to curb my hunger," she said, looking at me.

Emilia pierced me with her gaze. 

"That's a lie."

"Please don't say things like that..."

"We have one lunch and one dinner every three days, so that's two meals per three days, not one."

"Please stop or I'll die of sadness."

Maria was clinging to my side, making me look like some zookeeper with a koala wrapped around my leg, hindering my movement.

I couldn't judge her. Yesterday she'd gotten a real scare when she woke up in the middle of the night, didn't see me, and thought I'd abandoned her because I'd finally grown tired of taking care of her for so long.

Which wasn't exactly a lie - I mean, I am tired, but I'd never abandon her.

Though I think someone else had told us the same thing before, and the results speak for themselves.

I'd gotten home just before dawn, so I hadn't slept, but dark circles were a permanent feature on my face anyway. Not that there was anyone interested enough in me to notice.

When I opened the door, I found her sobbing in the doorway, and moments later she threw herself at me, covering my clothes in snot.

It seemed her little dramatic episode was over now, but she seemed unusually attentive.

Back to the present, the cafeteria was remarkably spacious, with a ceiling that arched into a glass dome while students chattered like the screeching noise of a storm battering against your window.

Comparing it to a storm wasn't quite right - it wasn't the gloomy atmosphere I meant, but the sea of sounds that seemed to stress Maria out.

Maybe that was another reason she was clinging to me.

"Uhh, Mary, if you're not feeling well we can go somewhere else."

"No, I'm fine. I need to be strong," she said with determination.

"You wouldn't be the first to complain about the noise. There are lots of people with perfect hearing at this academy, especially in the instrumental music department."

It was to be expected at a place like this, but Maria's hearing couldn't just be called "perfect" - I didn't even know how to describe it, but I was sure it was more than "perfect."

Emilia guided us like a veteran, even though she'd been here exactly as long as we had.

"How do you know so much? Did your friends tell you everything?"

"Huh? It's common sense. Plus I came for the guided tour last year, you know. This school was my first choice."

We stood before a machine that looked like a giant smartphone where Emilia was selecting her meal. After finalizing her extravagant menu choices, she paid with her card.

I did the same, using the card my boss had given me long ago.

But the results were very different. My meal options were much more limited than Emilia's.

After a few minutes, a tray with our food was delivered to us. It looked like one of those modern package delivery systems with no human interaction - just an extensive network of conveyor belts and robotic arms moving the food.

Now that I think about it, that seems kinda unhygienic and dehumanizing.

"What is that?" Emilia looked stunned.

"Bean puree, I guess?"

"Ugh."

I didn't even know what I'd ordered. Even Maria, who was a glutton, refused to eat it.

"You promised we'd have a nice lunch." Yeah, I'd promised her that when I found her crying to calm her down.

"I didn't say when."

"You liar. Then why should I trust that you won't sneak off again to..." I covered her mouth.

Yeah, nobody wants a reputation as the guy who sneaks out at night to live some bohemian lifestyle (work).

"Well, it's not like I find this enjoyable either, but it is what it is."

We exchanged resigned looks as we raised our spoons.

This was what we needed to make ends meet. I guess I'll have to "try" making lunches at home.

I looked up and saw Maria eating from Emilia's plate.

"Mmm, this is really good."

"I told you. You shouldn't be afraid to try new flavors. Food can be adventurous and delicious."

She had some extravagant foreign dish.

I noticed my sister had pushed her plate aside and given it to me to finish.

I resigned myself and began devouring the double portion, while the girls sitting to my right actually ate "real food."

"Lucas, don't you want some?"

I turned to see Emilia placing small pieces of pork on my plate.

In that moment, I think I genuinely wanted to cry from happiness.

"Hey, no, no, don't hug me... people will think I'm easy."

"I've told you I love you, Emilia."

"DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!! HE'S LYING!!" she started shouting everywhere when she noticed people looking at us.

...

A few minutes passed as we ate in silence while Emilia talked to Maria and deliberately ignored me, the redness in her face still slightly visible.

"...And then I told him he's an idiot and needs to watch the traffic light."

"Oooh."

"In conclusion, I almost died this morning, but it's my choice to come without a chauffeur, you know? I feel like I need to mature."

"So you really are a rich girl," I interjected.

She ignored me, but after a few seconds seemed to drop her act of being offended and spoke to me again.

"I wouldn't say my parents are millionaires, but we do have some money. Just not as much as you think."

"Well to me you are."

She stayed quiet for a while.

I stood up.

"Time for next class."

"Yeah, let's go." Emilia got up and we all gathered our things as we headed to the classroom.