I take a bite and then rest my arms on the table while I chew. It’s delicious. Not only is it the crispiest, most buttery toast I’ve ever tasted, but the mac and cheese is so warm and gooey I feel like rolling my eyes. But I shrug because I like teasing him. “It’s okay.” He leans forward in disbelief. “It’s . . . okay?” I nod. “Tastes like a sandwich.” “We’re breaking up.” “Bread’s a little stale.” “I hate you.” “Cheese tastes processed.” He sets his sandwich down, grabs his phone, and opens Instagram. “I’m unfollowing you again.” I laugh after swallowing my first bite and then peck him on his
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cuties
