2

      Mom was in the kitchen when I walked in. When she wasn’t at work, she would usually be in there or crying in her bedroom. She probably thought I couldn’t hear her, but since the house was silent nowadays, a single gasp or shudder of breath clued me in on her mood. Right now, she was slumped in a chair with dull eyes focused on numerous papers spread over the dining table. She was sniffling when I’d opened the door, but any sign of her crying must have been wiped away when I’d walked through the door. I think she knew I didn’t like to see her like that – truth be told, I would have done something to make her feel better, but nothing ever came to mind.

      She looked up as I came in and she smiled, but it was one that never met her eyes. “How was your day, honey?” she asked me in a bland tone. This was our routine each day – I’d walk in, she’d ask me how my day was, we’d make some small talk, and then she’d leave me alone. That was fine with me; I liked being alone. Best to play my part in things.

      “Fine,” I replied.

      “Just fine?” Mom asked, but her gaze had dropped back to the papers.

      “Yeah.” I could have said anything and I doubt she would have responded. It wasn’t like her nowadays. Then again, I led an exceptionally boring life, so I never had anything to talk about anyway.

      I was in the living room when I heard her call me back in. My hands clenched and my chest tightened for a moment as I wanted to snap back with “What is it?” but I kept my cool. I poked my head in and looked at her back. “What?”

      “Your friend came over a little while ago, asking about you.”

      I don’t have any friends. After a moment I grimaced. “Robbie?” I already knew the answer before she nodded her head. I bit my lip. “What’d he want?”

      “He asked if you were home yet. He told me you didn’t take the bus today.” She turned in her chair to look at me. “Did something happen at school?”

      “No.”

      “Then why didn’t you take the bus home?”

      “I just wanted some fresh air.” Uh-oh. I’d tried to hide my annoyance with her, but a little of it had slipped through. Her eyes hardened and she turned the rest of her body to face me.

      “Don’t talk to me like that, Samuel. I’m your mother and I deserve a little respect!”

      “Fine, okay. Sorry, Mom,” I mumbled, hoping that’d be enough to quell her temper. And I was right – her gaze softened and she looked away. I think she’d even started to tear up, but I couldn’t tell from where I was standing.

      “I just – I worry about you. About something happening to you, honey. If a stranger were to pick you up or something, I…” she trailed off, but I knew what she meant. She’d given me this kind of speech before, had used it on multiple occasions as a justification as to why I couldn’t go to some places around town.

      “Nothing’ll happen to me, Mom. Promise.”