I am from the lunch table

I am from the lunch table,

There were many different tables at my school but I only really sat at one. I sat with what I called “the boys”. I started to call my friends the boys to make it easier than to say all of their names. I could have said my friends but I thought that was really weird at the time. Our lunchroom walls were a very bright red with yoga mats hanging from the ceiling. No matter what, the lunchroom is the warmest room in the school. I usually sat by the window to watch the snow fall outside and to be face to face with an old friend of mine. 

I am from the lunch table,

I once got hit in the face with a cold pepperoni. I remember the lunchroom as hot and steamy that day. I was talking to a girl behind me about trading my chocolate milk for her Oreos and BAM! There was a pepperoni directly in the center of my forehead.

 For the next week there was a secret war between the boys and the girls table behind us. Lots of orange peels were thrown. Many chocolate milks exploded. Turns out the only reason why the pepperoni hit me in the first place was because our table so happened to be stuck between another food war. We had lookouts to make sure no teachers saw us. We lost some soldiers to the principal's office.

I am from the lunch table,

The table I sat at was full of boys that didn’t fit in with everyone. I didn’t fit in with the girls and it was because of the fact we couldn’t fit in we found each other. The boys didn’t fit in with what you would consider the “cool kids”. Each person at that table was called a loser even though we won the food war and did nothing wrong. Our table ended up forever being “The loser’s table”. To this day me and my fellow comrades of war are proud to be called losers because we were happy to have a small community where we could fit in together.

I am from the loser’s table

All of the boys have moved to a new location. I ended up staying in the same place my whole school life. When I was alone for a while I learned I could never stand the silence that fell upon the empty table. Since then I was the

entryway for new kids who couldn’t fit in. Once half the table was full again we changed our whole name to H gang. We had a symbol for it too. H gang was known to play cards everyday and beg for food because we didn’t have any. I still miss the smiles and laughter from the loser’s table. I appreciated how we would always share and care for each other. I would split my only Oreo even if it meant I didn’t get to eat any.

I am from H gang,

We grew apart due to COVID 19. We all graduated together and that was the end of it. I still miss being squished by friends at our overflowing table and the sound of our hands hitting the table as a game. The way the chatter of the lunchroom would fill the empty hallways and echo throughout the school.