“Wasn’t a conduct note. Was a hey, you okay?”
She blinks, like nobody’s asked about her in a while. “Conduct review. Academic check. You have a quiz Thursday in Sports Management.”
“Studied for it.”
“That would be a first.”
“For who?”
“For any player on this team.”
“Well, I’m not like those eggheads. Plus, I’m full of firsts lately.”
“Such as?”
“Reading the fine print. Showing up early. Bringing my own pen.” I count them off on my fingers. “Real personal growth.”
“That’s three things,” she smirks.
“I’m pacing myself.”
“How’s anger management?” She’s got the pen ready to check a box.
“That Gary dude has got a poster of cartoon weather. Wants me to point at how I feel.”
“What do you point at?”
“The sun. Every time.”
“You are not a sunny day, Adams,” she scoffs.
“Yeah, but Gary doesn’t need to know that.”
A sound comes out of her. Almost a laugh. She shuts it down before it gets all the way out, but I caught it, and now I want the whole thing more than I want most things.
“That’s not a real coping skill,” she says.
“It’s working, isn’t it? Am I in a fight right now?”
“The day is young.”
“See, that’s funny.” I laugh out loud. “You’re funny. Nobody knows that about you.”
“Nobody knows me at all.”
“Yeah, I noticed that. Why?”
“Because the second people decide you’re a person, they start having opinions about you.” She says it light, but it isn’t light. “I prefer to be furniture.”
“You’re the worst furniture I’ve ever met.”
“Uh, thank you.”
“Wasn’t a compliment.”
“I’m taking it as one anyway.” She slides the form over. “Sign where the tabs are.”
“This is a real question. Why so much paper?”
