“They’d hardly ever let me go to gym class.” Emery was chattering away again. Whoever was texting back must have taken a break. “I loved sports, but the asthma kept me off the field and the—A-achoo! The court. I couldn’t play an instrument, either, not a woodwind or brass, so, drums it was, and here I am a bunch of years later, still doing it. My dad snuck into the show out in Denver.”
“S-s-snuck in?” AC asked.
“Oh. He paid and everything, but he had to lie to my mom. Told her he was going on a business trip, for, like, the first time in his whole life.” Emery wiped his eyes, instead of his nose. “Dad’s okay with the whole gay thing. Mom hates it. I told him not to get in trouble with her, ya know? Achoo!”
“B-bless y-you.”
“Thanks, man. See, I didn’t want Mom to think Dad was having an
