Tommy's footsteps were slow and hesitant as he made his way to the cafeteria counter with his tray.
The bustling noise of the lunchroom, usually just a background hum, felt like it was closing in on him today. He was painfully aware of every eye that flicked his way, every half-hidden smirk, and every whisper that followed him as he moved through the room.
When he finally reached the counter, the lunch lady barely glanced at him. Her face was set in a strong, rigid expression, her mouth drawn into a tight line as she dropped a meager scoop of mashed potatoes onto his tray.
It felt more like a dismissal than a serving.
Tommy wanted to ask for a little more, but something in her cold, indifferent face made him bite his tongue.
He shuffled forward to the next station, where the server—a young man with slicked-back hair and a sneer that barely concealed his disdain—was waiting.
