Being a teenager living with a whole bunch of adults was boring. Your whole life lately was being told to clean by Ms. Grimshaw.

“What’s up with ya, kid?” Hosea stiffly sat down across from you, while you aggressively scrubbed the table.

With a clenched jaw, you looked away from Hosea, not wanting to flood out all your emotions onto him without warning.

“You know you can tell me, right?” Hosea sat up a straight, taking the cloth from your hand so you’d look at him.