At the end of classes, the teacher asked Lyan to stay behind and clean the classroom. He didn't mind much, since he had done it several times before.
Without further ado, he grabbed the broom and started sweeping without much enthusiasm, with mechanical and repetitive movements.
The classroom was empty, and the silence was only broken by the brushing sound of the bristles against the floor.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, so he took it out with one hand while continuing to sweep with the other.
It was his father.
Lyan stared at the screen for a few seconds, somewhat surprised. It had been a while since they last spoke.
'Whatever…' he thought as he sighed and answered the call.
"Hello."
"Are you okay, Lyan? You took a while to answer," asked the voice of an older man on the other end.
"I was cleaning the classroom…" Lyan replied quickly.
"Ahhh, I see. I'm glad you're still attending classes."
