I’m shoveling it in like I’m doing construction. Bulldozer is what comes to mind, but I can’t seem to stop it. The empty-pantry clock starts now. Started last night, except I didn’t even know it. I have to save food at home, but load up on everything else while I can. Sam watches me eat with a funny look on his face. “You okay?” he says. “Sure, why?” I practically choke on my mouthful of eggs. He rubs my back while I’m coughing. “Just wondering. You seem a little . . . on edge.” “I’m okay.” I try to slow down, but it’s like my body knows that hungry might be just around the corner. “Are you going to eat that?” He’s left part of a biscuit on his plate. “Uh.” Pause. “You can have it.” “Thanks.” A short while later, we’re walking up the steps to the school. “Hey, Maxie. Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow?” Sam says. I’ve been to his house for dinner before, but not in a while. Not since we’ve been in our weird place of being together but not being together at the same time.
