A deep, rolling laugh pulls me from my wallowing, and I turn to glare across the cafeteria at the source of the laughter. He’s been eating lunch here more often now that I’ve stopped messing with him. At first, I liked it. The opportunity to observe him from a distance was too good to pass up, but lately, the sight of him has been grinding my gears. The impulse to go over there and say some shit or do something to piss him off is intense. Old habits die hard.
