His body heaves like he’s sighing, and I watch as he answers the phone.
The stony, furious expression from yesterday falls over his face as he listens to whatever his mother says. The longer she talks the redder his face gets.
Maybe it wasn’t a great idea to let his mother talk to him. I thought he was probably just too busy to answer his cell, but could he have been ignoring her on purpose?
Little boss.
The words and the patronizing way she’d said the phrase echo through my mind again, and I shake my head. He said his parents were pushing him and pressuring him about something, so she could be calling to hound him about that stressful situation.
I peek at him again. Now, he’s standing, his face a mask of fury, and his hand waving through the air. I can’t hear what he’s saying, bu
