“You’re skipping lunch?” she asks as we walk from Physics to Spanish together.
I glance at her hesitantly, waiting for her reaction. “Yeah.”
There’s a pause, and then, “Oh, I do too sometimes. Dinner too. I’m just not hungry, you know?”
But I don’t know, because I am hungry. Well usually at least. I don’t tell her that my skipping lunch is kind of like my sister cutting herself.