I smiled at the creamy cake and even wider when my eyes landed on the platter of Buffalo chicken wings! The best dish in the whole universe!
The sight and smell made my mouth water. I could hardly wait to dig in and dip them into the bowl of blue cheese dressing!
But just as I reached for a piece, my brother pushed my hand away and grabbed the whole platter. My mouth opened in shock, and my heart sank into my stomach.
He smiled big as he handed Ginny the platter. "Here, Ginny. You gotta try this," he said. "Mom's chicken wings are the best!"
I put my hand back on the napkin on my lap under the table and stared at the chicken wings on Ginny's plate.
"Ch-Charlie?" I said quietly when the platter rested near Ginny, hoping he'd serve it to me, too.
But instead, he turned to me with his forehead furrowing like he was fed up. "You're already as fat as a pig!" he snapped. "Let her eat! Stop being selfish!"
I felt my cheeks burning like a pie left forgotten in the oven.
"I-I-I'm not!" I stammered, unsure if I was defending myself against being called a pig or a selfish girl. "I wasn't trying to stop her!"
I glanced at Dad, hoping he'd come to my rescue. But he only gave me a look that made me go quiet.
Pretty soon, tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. I remember feeling so loved and special—Mom making my favorite food, Charlie always serving me first, and Dad paying attention to my appetite. The dining table used to be my haven.
But in a snap, everything just suddenly felt wrong and different.
The sharp clang of utensils on plates and occasional compliments on Mom's cooking screamed everyone's eagerness for the next bite. No one even glanced at my plate.
I felt invisible; nobody even seemed to notice I had left the table. Quietly, I ran upstairs, and that's when the tears finally spilled over.
For a moment, I glanced back at the dining room. Ginny smiled sweetly, thanking Mom and Dad like they'd just completed her dream.
In that instant, I felt like I was the orphan, watching someone else's family have the perfect dinner.
A metallic taste filled my mouth, and a mix of anger and sadness bubbled inside me.
Later that night, Mom came into my room with a plate of leftovers. The smell of the chicken wings I had craved all evening filled the air, but I had no appetite anymore.