RACHEL

Monday lunchtime.

The gang sits in a circle,

each of us with a smile bigger than Uluru.

Everyone has a parcel on their lap,

except Mick,

who nervously looks towards Laura,

still on her seat.

Alex looks at me and says,

‘You first.’

Everyone fumbles with their parcels,

all of us eager, at the same time.

I shake my head.

‘Let’s open them together.’

We’ve all spent the weekend

thinking

what to do

to be nice to each other,

Mick’s idea.

All weekend.

Selina nods

and I count to three.

The five of us unwrapping together.

Nervous giggles.

Selina, Cameron, Pete, Alex and me,

everyone has the same surprise

which isn’t a surprise at all.

Five batches of freshly baked biscuits.

Mick says,

‘Mum was out of flour . . .’

We count them.

Seventy-four biscuits.

Too many to eat in a week of lunchtimes.

Alex puts the lid on his container and asks,

‘What do we do?’

Silence.

Mick slowly grins.

He reaches across and lifts two from my cake tin.

I nod.

He says,

‘Maybe Laura is hungry?’

He stands and takes a deep breath.

As he walks away, I understand.

I gather my tin and

ask Alex if he wants to make friends

with the Year Fours playing cricket.

Selina walks to the staffroom.

Pete says,

‘Year Fives will eat anything, I reckon!’

And Cameron spies Jacob with the Infants,

adding, ‘Jacob’s always hungry!’

It’s the best lunchtime I’ve ever had.

Me and Alex giving biscuits

to the sweaty kids in Year Four!