[To an ear that still hears disapproval in the voice of everyone older, it sounds like: I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Like: I'm not shouting, we're just having a conversation. And he knows Peter, by now. He knows that he's not being fair to one of the kindest, most generous boys he's met in this town. But the instinct is there, burrowed deep, and Mike folds into himself like he's awaiting a slap to the cheek.]
ok
[And he sits, staring at the face of his phone, waiting for the call.]
no subject
ok
[And he sits, staring at the face of his phone, waiting for the call.]