“I’m mostly trying to decide if this is a step up or a step down from skipping school.”
David’s dad stood in the doorway, hands on hips, surveying the scene before him. David was sitting up quickly, a thin blanket balled at the foot of his bed where he must have kicked it in the night. To his right was a bedside table, his lamp guarded by a series of action figures. Just past them, the window looked out on some jagged branches and a street that was empty but for a couple of early morning joggers. To his left was a low bookshelf topped by a fire engine red alarm clock and a thrice-read comic book. Beneath that, his sneakers peaked halfway out from under the bed and, oh yeah, a girl was wrapped up in his comforter like a burrito, asleep.
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