45

I snatch it out of her hand and push it to the side. “Give it back,” she grumbles. “I’m hungry.” “And this is junk.” “Better than starving.” “I knew you had trouble taking care of your physical needs. I bet you’re the type who stays up all night doing some passion project, sleeps two hours, then goes to class with dark circles.” “How…the hell do you know that?” She narrows her eyes. “Are you psychic?” “When it comes to you? Always.” I reach into my backpack and fetch the container I prepared early this morning and place it on her lap. She looks at it expectantly. “Will I find a dead rat in this?” “Shh. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” “You’re not funny.” “So you keep telling me, but I promise it’s not my intent to be. Now, open it.” Her eyes turn to slits, but she slowly opens the container and pauses. I took extra care in making rice, shrimp, two types of salad and some eggs. “Wow.” Her lips part. “You…made this?” “Yeah. Look, I even did a smiley face with the vegetables on the rice.”