Spaghetti with a homemade tomato and ground turkey sauce: my brother and my favorite. I could hear the sauce simmer when I came downstairs from my room and could smell the garlic bread cooking in the oven. After watching a bit of the six o’clock national news, my brother and I took our seats at the table, mouths watering. I always sat facing the kitchen, back turned to the window showing off our backyard. I was always very particular about my spot and my chair. Even when we had people over for meals I would have to let them know which spot was mine. When my mom brought the pasta and sauce to the table I felt absolutely famished. I had been too nervous to eat breakfast before school, and I took up most of lunch chatting with my friends about our best stories of the summer. I served myself a mound of spaghetti, and good amount of broccoli as well. I had only taken a few bites when the inevitable came out of mom’s mouth. “How was the first day? Which classes are you looking forward to?” I told her how excited I was to be a senior, and that I had my best friend, Noah, in my AP Economics class. When my brother had finished his first day spiel my mom told me she had some news. Annoyed, I put my fork down once again. “So, about two weeks ago I had a doctor’s appointment,” she said. Pause. My heart started to beat a bit faster. “It wasn’t supposed to be much more than a routine check-up, but when I was there they found a lump.” Another pause. My brother and I looked at each other, each with a confused look on our face. Finally I broke the silence. “Wait, lump as in cancer?” That was the hardest thing I’ve had to say in my entire
Spaghetti with a homemade tomato and ground turkey sauce: my brother and my favorite. I could hear the sauce simmer when I came downstairs from my room and could smell the garlic bread cooking in the oven. After watching a bit of the six o’clock national news, my brother and I took our seats at the table, mouths watering. I always sat facing the kitchen, back turned to the window showing off our backyard. I was always very particular about my spot and my chair. Even when we had people over for meals I would have to let them know which spot was mine. When my mom brought the pasta and sauce to the table I felt absolutely famished. I had been too nervous to eat breakfast before school, and I took up most of lunch chatting with my friends about our best stories of the summer. I served myself a mound of spaghetti, and good amount of broccoli as well. I had only taken a few bites when the inevitable came out of mom’s mouth. “How was the first day? Which classes are you looking forward to?” I told her how excited I was to be a senior, and that I had my best friend, Noah, in my AP Economics class. When my brother had finished his first day spiel my mom told me she had some news. Annoyed, I put my fork down once again. “So, about two weeks ago I had a doctor’s appointment,” she said. Pause. My heart started to beat a bit faster. “It wasn’t supposed to be much more than a routine check-up, but when I was there they found a lump.” Another pause. My brother and I looked at each other, each with a confused look on our face. Finally I broke the silence. “Wait, lump as in cancer?” That was the hardest thing I’ve had to say in my entire