After Paye apologized for calling me his problem the other day, the room felt lighter. I also apologized for hurting his feelings, and for a moment, the tension that had been building between us just dissolved. We sat down on the edge of his bed while we made up, the mattress dipping under our weight. When he leaned in and hugged me, I could hear him sniffing. He was actually crying. He squeezed me tight, calling me his little puppy in that shaky voice.
I can't believe he still calls me that. It's embarrassing, but at the same time, it felt like home.
After settling our differences and wiping away the stray tears, it was finally time to ask him the question I had been wanting to ask for weeks. I needed to know what was going on in his head.
He had moved back to his desk, hunching over again. He was completely focused on the papers he was filling out, his pen scratching against the wood. I stood up from the bed and walked over to see what he was writing so intently.
