stop it.
That morning, as we neared the school, Drew’s hand tightened on the door handle.
“Just drop me at the corner,” he said.
“No,” I told him. “I’m walking you in.”
His jaw shifted like he wanted to argue, but he did not have the energy. I noticed that too: the absence of argument from a fifteen-year-old boy is its own kind of signal.
The school sat continue reading …
