Chapter 3: The Table

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JULY 3, 2014
13 Years Old

          I ran up to John and sat down at our table. I loved the way his hair looked today. There was one strand that sat in front of his face that I loved.  He didn't know it but this table meant so much to me. Back at home my mom worked all day at a local restaurant and all night at the hospital. I eat dinner alone every night. I wanted to tell John how much this dining hall table meant to me, how it filled a void inside me. "John, I wanted to tell you something..." I mumbled. I didn't know why but I felt nervous. John's face turned serious.
               "Anything, you can tell me anything." he said as he smiled. His smile gave me comfort. I never talked about my family at camp. It was my escape.
            "Back at home my mom is single and works all day and night. I eat usually eat microwaved meals for dinner every night, alone. I just wanted to tell you how much it means for you to have this table for us where I can share a meal with someone. I know it sounds stupid, but..." K trailed off.
              "You don't have to explain yourself, I understand how hard that must be." He sat up and hugged me. I have never felt so loved in my life. That's the John I know.

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