“Firstly, watch your mouth,” I say. “Secondly, is that any way to greet your brother? And thirdly, what the hell are you doing playing video games in the middle of the day? You’re supposed to be doing schoolwork.”
Sage rolls his eyes. Parenting a teenager is every bit as much of a pain in the ass as books and movies warn you it will be. The fact that he’s my younger brother and I can simply punch him when he pisses me off is a slight perk, but only slight.
“I’m at lunch,” Sage says defensively, pointing at the half-eaten sandwich on the coffee table. “And I finished my work already.”
I want to keep prying, but the truth is, Sage doesn’t have much else to fill his days. Him attending virtual school means no cafeteria lunches, no locker-room banter, no spontaneous hangouts after the final
