Lunchtime, by Amy Friedman

Marco sidled up to Jeff’s desk. “What are you having?” he said.
“Crap on a cracker,” Jeff said.
“Sure smells good,” Marco said, sniffing and eyeing Jeff’s plate.
“If you’re hungry, why don’t you go to the cafeteria? I’m sure they’ve got something good today,” Jeff said.
“Not till you tell me what crap on a cracker is. You say that every day,” Marco said.
“Well that’s because you always ask me what I’m eating,” Jeff said. “Get your own lunch.”
“Didn’t your mama teach you to share?” said Marco.
“Yes, boss,” Jeff exhaled. “Here’s my lunch. Enjoy.”
Marco grinned.

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