And at Willowcrest High School’s feeder middle-school campus, I slowly stopped eating lunch.
I didn’t consciously decide to.
Food simply stopped feeling important.
Ethan noticed.
He never asked me to explain.
He just sat beside me.
Sometimes he talked.
Sometimes he didn’t.
Once, he spent fifteen straight minutes explaining why Bellmere’s baseball team desperately needed a better relief pitcher.
I understood almost nothing.
It helped anyway.
