“You thought any more about going out for a sport next semester?” JJ asked Milton during lunch on Monday.
Milton shook his head no. “I don’t think I’d be any good.”
JJ didn’t think it was a case of being good or bad; it would give Milton another outlet, maybe help build up some confidence and some muscles so he could better defend himself.
“Competitive sports aren’t my thing.”
“You could do weightlifting, that doesn’t have to be competitive.”
Milton, who had just put a forkful of pasta into his mouth, coughed.
JJ stood and moved to behind Milton’s chair. “You okay?”
“I’m okay,” Milton said through his coughs.
JJ resumed his seat. “What’s wrong with lifting weights?”
Milton dropped his fork, held his arms out, and did a double biceps pose. “Puny, aren’t they?”
“You’d start out wi
