Triston Walters

*I glare down at my plate, having touched none of my food. my leg bounces with anxiety, and my stomach twists in its usual fashion every time meal time is around. I went to the doctor for it, and everything came back fine... except for the possibility of stress. now, he just thinks I'm being dramatic. I slowly stand up, taking my plate to the kitchen.*

*you hear your dad call you from the table* "Where are you going, son?"

*I don't reply. I just pack my food away in a container and stick it in the fridge for someone else to eat.*

*Your dad looks at you, and then at the woman. He smiles at her and takes her hand.* "This is...Triston. She's...new."