I sit at the dining room table, a small, sturdy square table made of oak wood. The room is dull and flickering slightly; A result of our weekly candle-lit dinner habit. Gunther is sitting across from me, but it’s hard to see him due to the wall of lit candles in the way. Our parents sit at the ends of each table, enjoying their tortellini soup. My own bowl of soup sits untouched, in front of me. After what happened at school this afternoon, I don’t feel like eating. I haven’t felt like eating since the school year started. I suppose Gunther isn’t eating his soup, either, because our parents begin to ask their daily questions.

            “How was school today?” My mom asks.

“Did anything new happen?” My dad adds quickly.

            I give Gunther a small kick from under the table. I’m not one for talking, even with my family. Gunther on the other hand...Well, he could talk his life away if you gave him the chance. Therefore, I always make him answer the daily questions our parents had to offer. He also happens to be the greatest liar I’ve ever met.

            “Mr. Green taught us about Egyptian hieroglyphics. He even had a movie for us to watch about it.” Gunther begins. This wasn’t particularly a lie, but it wasn’t the information our parents were looking for. “So, I suppose school was good. Except for lunch, that is.” He adds quickly.

            A mixture of shock, horror, and rage takes over me quickly. How could he be so stupid?! I told him not to say anything about that! I think bitterly. Suddenly, I realize that Gunther isn’t talking about what I thought he was.

            “The burgers were so greasy they dripped, and the fries were too salty.” Gunther complains.

            “Ah, yes. No food’s better than cafeteria food.” My dad adds sarcastically.

            “It’s more like potential heart-attacks.” My brother grumbles. “I wish they’d feed us something that was healthy, for once.”

After a few minutes of complete and utter silence, I speak up.

 “May Gunther and I be excused?” I ask quietly. My mom nods.

“Sure, just put your dishes in the sink, first.” She says with a slight smile.

I get up, grab my bowl and fork, and head over to the sink. Gunther follows me, his own dishes in his hands.

The End

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