“What’s really happening Dylan? You have completely changed. This isn’t the boy I knew back in Virginia. Are you depressed?”
Dylan sent a quizzical look his parent’s way. He dropped his fork and got to his feet, picking up his backpack.
“You better sit back down, Mister. Because we’re not done talking. Your mother is talking to you and you will sit down and listen to her,” Mr. Cooper clamored.
Dylan halted and slowly turned. He looked at the both of them. They’ve been on his neck for the past weeks, asking ridiculous questions like why does he go to bed early or why does he frequently eat dinner in his room.
These are one of the reasons why he couldn’t wait to save enough to move out of the house. He loves them but they annoyed him so much that it made him feel the urge to leave the
