sliced through me.
Even the waiter froze.
My mom covered her mouth, giggling awkwardly. “Evan, that’s not nice.”
But she was smiling. They all were.
I excused myself to the bathroom and stared at my reflection. My eyes were red, but I wasn’t crying. I think it was just the shock—the realization that no matter how many years had passed, I was still an outsider.continue reading …
