"Hey. Brandon, right? I think we're in the same class." ((GO WITH WHOEVER IS FLOATING YOUR BOAT ATM that can apply to brandon or to the speaker))
Brandon looks up from his book. There’s a short kid with spiky hair and a hopeful grin standing in front of him. ‘Uh, third period Trig, right?’
The guy’s grin gets bigger, and he nods, drops into the seat next to Brandon.
'You need something?' Brandon asks, scooting his stuff out of the way.
'You looked lonely. Eating lunch alone is rough when you're the next kid.'
Brandon nods. He’s been The New Kid three times this year, with his dad moving around for work so much. It sucks.
'So. I'm gonna eat lunch with you. You're welcome.'
Brandon laughs, and folds the corner of his page over, sliding his book back into his bag.
'I'm Andy,' the kid says. 'Or Shawsy. Take your pick.'
Brandon ends up splitting his sandwich (roast beef and homemade coleslaw) for the other half of Andy’s chicken and pesto wrap, but it’s totally worth it, and they split Brandon’s candy bar and Andy’s bag of chips, too. It feels a little bit like being six years old again, especially when Andy tries to trade his apple away for Brandon’s yogurt, but Andy’s funny and friendly and by the end of lunch, Brandon feels like he’s made his first proper friend in a long time.