I TOLD MY ROOMMATE I HAD ALREADY EATEN

Dear Delyara, My roommate ordered Thai food tonight and asked whether I wanted anything. I said I had eaten on campus. I hadn’t. I have $4.63 until Friday, and the dining hall stopped serving at eight. I spent twenty minutes in the library drinking water because sometimes cold water can convince your stomach that something has happened. When I got home, the apartment smelled like curry and fried rice. My roommate offered me one of her spring rolls, and I said I was too full. Too full. I went into my room, turned my music up, and chewed two antacid tablets because they taste like chalky fruit and at least give my mouth something to do. My parents think the scholarship covers everything. My mom tells relatives that I’m “living the dream in Texas.” She works at a nail salon six days a week. I would rather go hungry than hear worry enter her voice from twelve hundred miles away. There’s leftover rice in the refrigerator. I am waiting for my roommate to fall asleep before I take some. I hate who hunger turns me into.