A Table for Two

Leo stared down at his lunch tray, tracing the grid of squares molded into the blue plastic. It was his third week at Oak Creek Elementary, and three weeks was more than enough time to realize that lunch was the hardest part of the day. Every afternoon, while the cafeteria buzzed with laughter, trading of snack packs, and loud planning for weekend sleepovers, Leo sat near the far end of Table Four. Alone.

To keep himself busy, he always brought his navy-blue sketchbook. Between small bites of his turkey sandwich, he would draw intricate mechanical dragons or detailed cityscape horizons. It was better to look busy than to sit there staring into space, wishing someone would sit down.

Across the crowded room, Maya sat at the center table—the table where everyone wanted to be. Her friends were animatedly discussing the upcoming school talent show and who had the best shoes. But Maya kept glancing toward the far end of Table Four. She had noticed Leo on his very first day. At first, she assumed he just liked having space. But as the days turned into weeks, she saw the subtle way his shoulders slumped whenever someone walked past his table without stopping.