Chapter Nine
“PEANUT BUTTER AND banana sandwich for you,” Betty Harper said, pulling a Ziploc-bagged sandwich out of a brown paper bag and laying it in front of Aimee. “And a BLT for you.” Another bag was laid in front of Karla, who eyed the sandwich with more glee than Aimee thought possible. “You’ll have to forgive the giant bag of barbecue chips. I ran out of the mini bags. Oh, and I only brought bottled water. I figured the lunch was junkie enough.”
“Junkie?” Karla repeated, laughing as she opened the Ziploc bag. “What kind of word is junkie?”
“It’s not a kind of word; it’s a kind of food.” Aimee’s mother laid her own sandwich in front of her and pulled the bag open. “I didn’t think we needed soda on top of the chips. I’m trying to eat healthier since…well, you know…since…”
Now Kar
