A couple hundred guys sat eating at long tables with benches. As I walked through the center aisle between them, the men stopped eating to stare. The movement rippled from front to back. My fingers itched to tug down the shorts, but I didn’t want to give off the impression that I was uncomfortable, even if I was. They might mistake my lack of comfort for fear, and that could quickly escalate into one of them trying something with me, which wouldn’t go well for them. But my skin crawled as I fought the urge to turn around.

Ahiga said food. So I was getting food.

I scanned the faces staring at me. No women in sight. Not as far as I could tell. For a second I wondered if I was in the right place. Maybe I’d mixed up which mess hall I was supposed to be in. Or maybe I missed a women-only mess, but I quickly ruled that out. There were only two, and from what Matthew and Ahiga said, there weren’t many women here. Having a separate mess hall wouldn’t be a good use of resources.

A whistle cut through the air, and I realized that maybe the other women weren’t in this room for a reason. Maybe I was the dummy for coming here to eat. But where were the other women?

I tilted my chin up, not wanting to show any nerves, and walked evenly paced steps as I made my way to the counter at the back of the room. A lady with a hair net grunted at me. Finally. Another woman.

“Good morning,” I said in what I hoped was a friendly tone.

The answering stare down made it clear she didn’t want to be friends with me.

Fine. I grabbed a tray from the stack and shoved it under the protective glass. Some sort of neon yellow egg substitute hit the metal with a wet plop. I struggled to keep the disgust off my face. Choking down this slop was going to be a chore. A serving of potatoes, a hunk of bread, and some gray-looking sausage quickly followed. I thanked her and went to find a place to sit.

A man with long, stringy hair who stunk like he hadn’t showered in weeks had a large empty space beside him. He seemed like he was paying zero attention to the room, so I figured it was a safe place to sit, even if he did stink. But as I moved to the empty part of the bench, the man slid over, stopping me before I could throw my leg over the bench.

Okay, not welcome at that table. The guy seemed to like his meal in peace. I understood that well enough.