I remember standing in line for lunch talking to my friend Kyle. We never liked having to buy our lunch because the kids who brought their own always got the best seats before we could sit down. Kyle was my best friend for as long as I can remember but today was different because he was angry at me. I had just told him I was moving.
To me, it was just another day in line,I wished I brought my own lunch. I didn't understand that would be one of the last lunches I had with my best friend. The air smelled of fish sticks and chocolate milk. The yellow tiles were sticky with spilled ketchup and several layers of cleaner that were never properly mopped up. The fluorescent lights flickered their pattern. And the left hook from my friend Kyle caught me completely by surprise. It wasn't hard, it was the kind of hit that boys give each other when they are angry and frustrated but care too much about the person to actually put any weight behind it.
As I sat in the principles office with my former friend Kyle awaiting the dreaded call home all I could think about was the chocolate milk that I could no longer drink and how I should have just brought my own lunch.
