“What?” I asked.
“You aren’t trying.”
“I am tryin’!”
“Try-ing” he emphasized.
I groaned and threw back my head.
“You are more capable than this. Put effort into it and stop giving up before you start.” He sat back. “And stop chewing on your thumb.”
I tucked the thumb that had been in my mouth into my palm. “I want to take a break.”
“We just started.”
“I’m tired.”
“Too bad. You have about thirty more of these tongue twisters to get through. Once I see serious improvement then you can take a break.”
“You are being ridiculous.” I overly emphasized each word.
“Better.” He pushed back and stood up. “Now keep going. I have papers to grade.”
“Oh, that’s convenient.”
“I can’t sit here and handhold. You’re going to have to work for this, Suzie. If you want to be better, you’ll make yourself better. Otherwise, you’ll find excuses to fail.”
My mouth fell open.
“I, for one, think you are more than capable.”
My trout mouth could think of nothing to say.
He frowned. “And I’ll load up some audiobooks on your phone so you can listen to them tonight while you paint your nails or whatever it is you’re doing up there.” With that he left the room—his favorite thing to do after frowning.
* * *
When Jack came home I was still sitting at the table but I had my head down and was gently thumping it over and over again. A hundred stupid phrases were swirling in my brain.
“Did he break you?” Jack asked from the doorway.
I kept my head on the table but turned to him. He was eating an apple in the doorway.
“I hate him,” I said.
“No, you don’t.”
“No. I really do.”
“He’s not so bad.” He came closer and peered over to see what I was doing. “What’s this?”
“Torture.”
Jack smiled. “You’re as dramatic as he is.”
I groaned and closed my eyes.
“Six sick hicks nix six slick bricks with picks and sticks,” he read from over my shoulder without missing a beat. “Damn. He isn’t messing around.”
