Susanna Lancaster
Lunch Break
It's not always this hard.
Sometimes it’s pumpkin spice lattes at Starbucks or popcorn at the movie theater. Sometimes it’s getting a second plate of spaghetti. Sometimes it’s trying new recipes from Pinterest.
But, that’s only sometimes. The rest of the time, it is this hard. It’s hoping no one notices I haven’t touched my plate and then going through every emotion there is until I find myself praying someone does notice—and understands. Or at least tries to.
Today, it’s crying in front of everyone in third period because Mrs. Mallory, the math teacher no one likes but sucks up to anyway, pointed out that my dress is a bit tighter and laughingly said that I’m getting a belly. Loud enough for the first two rows to hear. Which is basically the same thing as the entire class hearing.
It’s losing control. Or maybe realizing I never actually had all the control I thought I had.
I look up from the notebook I’ve been aimlessly doodling in all through Chemistry. My lab partner Jackson glares at me from behind his thick glasses. He’s