“Serious.” Jonah groaned emphatically. He hadn’t mentioned anything about his afternoon sessions at the library as it wasn’t worth explaining. Jonah rarely talked about school at all except for when his mom asked pestering questions at the dinner table, for which he usually gave mono-syllabic answers. He had failed at evading his mom this time however, so he might as well come clean. “I have to work on this stupid project with someone.”

“Uh-huh,” came Darla’s sarcastic response. “Does this someone have a name?”

“Annie.”

“You’re working with a girl?” she asked skeptically, unable to hide her disbelief.

“Yeah?”

“I hope you’re being nice to her.” Darla asserted, hands on hips.

Jonah felt a small tinge in the back of his throat. He gulped some saliva, feeling vaguely insulted that his mother assumed he was not being “nice”. He couldn’t vouch for how nice he was being to Annie, however. He stammered defensively, “What’s that supposed to mean…”

Darla tried to choose her words carefully. “Well, you’re a bit rough around the edges, to put it nicely. I hope you’re trying to get along.”

“Whatever, Mom. Can you stop interrogating me now?” Jonah said exasperated, his voice jumping an octave. He started to storm up the stairs, on a mission to escape to his room. 

“I hope you’re telling the truth!” Darla called after him. 

Jonah had already reached the second floor and was turning for his bedroom when he yelled back, “I am!”

“I’m making chicken croquettes for dinner!” Darla shouted up the staircase. “And take off your shoes!”

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