My salad looked unappetizing when I returned to the table. I pushed my plate to the side.
Devon offered to share his jalapeño chili soup.
I’d be up all night with heartburn, I told him.
I watched Pete devour his first and second course of steak fries and broccoli, offering me a greasy potato wedge. I shook my head no.
He lifted his shoulders in a suit-yourself shrug.
I gulped my too-cold green tea and sat back, watching the rain coming down harder since Devon and I got back from the restroom.
A baby started crying.
Pete muttered, “Shut that thing up,” and stuffed his mouth with more food than he could swallow.
Disgusting habit: overeating. Glutton. I looked away, ignoring him.
I listened to Devon eating his soup. Slurp, slurp, slurp. He sounded like my grandfather gumming a pork c
