There were two lunch lines at STEC-prep Young Adult Educational Correction Facility. The first was the macro line. This line was only for those large enough “not to require disability accommodation.” The second line was for everyone else.
“Get out of the way, mouse. This is MY spot.”
Cole ducked his head, his ears folding back, but he didn’t move. His hands were tucked into his pockets.
“Didn’t you hear me, you little RAT? MOVE!”
But he wouldn’t. Cole’s stomach growled. The iguana was twice his height, and was looming over him with his enormous, green-scaled body. Cole had no do