He was young and small. He had thick, bushy hair and green eyes. He had small lips that were always pressed together. He had hunched shoulders and skinny arms. All in all, the boy looked pathetic to the girl.
Yet he captivated her. Not because of the way his eyes saw everything. Not because of how he could take apart a computer keyboard and put it back together again. Not because he always managed to beat any other boy or girl in a race. Not even because everyone in second grade was jealous of him, and in awe of him.
No, the girl was captivated by him because he liked grilled cheese sandwiches. He liked them in the way that a dog liked its kibble. In the way that a little girl liked her dolls. He liked grilled cheese sandwiches in a desperate, frenzied need to eat them. That captivated the girl.
He ate his grilled cheese sandwiches with all the seriousness of a chess player contemplating his final move. It seemed to the girl, as she watched him from her table across the cafeteria, that the boy was not simply eating his lunch. He seemed to be communing with the sandwich, as if this was one of the most important decisions of his life. As she watched the sandwich rise toward his mouth, slowly, deliberately, she thought that perhaps this was very important to him.
Across the cafeteria, sitting alone with his grilled cheese sandwiches, Mack Millington took a bite. No deep thoughts swirled through his mind as he ate the sandwich. The only thought that made itself known to him was that the grilled cheese was cold from being in his lunchbox all morning. He mulled over the thought of warm grilled cheese sandwiches as he chewed slowly, almost methodically. He simply enjoyed the taste of grilled cheese sandwiches, and he was a bit of a bird eater. Slow, taking small bites, studying his food. That's just how he was. But, to the girl across the cafeteria, Mack Mullington looked serious and thoughtful, and deep in his emotions for the sandwich he held.
