"Do you want some candy?" he asks me. I eye the bowl of M&M's on the table between us. In fact, I'm starving. It's been hours since I ate my brown-bag lunch on the playground of the alternative grade school that I attend in the Berkeley flatlands alongside kids who have names like Sunshine and Storm.
"At home, I am invisible. My parents, who are both English professors, my father at UC- Berkeley and my mother at a private college in the East Bay, are preoccupied with their careers: teaching classes, grading papers, writing books."
"I don't want to say the wrong thing. If I do, I might not be able to come back again.Playing it safe, I ignore my hunger and shake"
[
add
]
[
|
|
...
]