“You stink.”
I’d barely stepped inside the front door before Mom caught my arm and hustled me up the stairs to the second-floor bathroom. She sat me down on the toilet and turned on the tap in the sink to let the water get warm.
“Give me your shirt,” she demanded. “You can’t wear that.”
“I don’t have anything else.”
“I’ll give you one of Michael’s.”
“I don’t want anything of Michael’s.”
“Too bad.” She held out a hand and waited until I peeled the t-shirt over my head and handed it to her. She dropped it into the trash can and thrust the washcloth into my hands. “Give yourself a wipe-down. I’ll be back.” She went out of the room leaving me alone, staring stupidly at the washcloth and struggling to remember why I was there.
This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here. I didn’t b
