being social

A thick air filled the space, encompassing everyone in a hazy caustic claustrophobia.
Sitting hunched over the table, surrounded by friends, alone in a crowd. Noises shot overhead, conversations flowed--a gummy pipe for a throat precluded her unimpeded engagement with that.
At least the table cloth is interesting.
There's homework--but she'd be stressed with homework.
There's video games--but nothing even interests her anymore; how long can one scroll the endless halls of neatly cataloged cases, each one screaming that it could fill the void, each one failing to deliver.
But she's here with friends--if she can't be happy here, then where could she? why is happiness so fleeting. why does it never come even when she does the right--
"Hierotia," a sudden intrusion into the sanctum, "what are you gonna order? I'm thinking the moz sticks, maybe calimari if someone wants to share."
Turning up from the digital menu casting an septic glow onto her face from her phone, Annaliese smiled softly.
"Oh," Hierotia exclaimed half surprised half feigning surprise. She looked down at the menu, eyes scanning the list of items. Buffalo chicken sandwich and tacos were what she had already been torn between within one minute of sitting down and immediately picking up the menu, but she articulated her face to convey thought.
"I'm torn between the chicken sandwich and tacos" she eventually said (wondering if she took to long). Looking back up at annaliese, she noticed the new braclet clinging tightly to the wrist which was now resting against her cheek.
"Those are good choices. Which way are you leaning?"