Session Four

           Sorry I haven’t posted in a while.  I got the flu last week and couldn’t go read to Mr. H.  I literally stayed in bed all day playing Call of Duty (no complaints here!)

            So I went back this morning, carrying a backpack of a dozen different books.  I had no idea anything he might want to read, and I wondered what he did last week when I wasn’t there.  I felt kind of bad about it, but Mom said old people are fragile and I could’ve killed him with my germs.

            Christa ruffled my hair before leaving me and Mr. H. alone.  I grabbed my chair as usual and was just about to sit when my pocket dinged.

            He’s getting quicker.

           

            I was about to ask how he knew when he glanced at the door.  Duh, Christa told him.

            “Yes, sir, much better now.  I’m sorry I had the flu.”

            He narrowed his eyes and typed really fast.

            Did he . . . Holy crap, did he actually just say that?  I stared at the text.  How do you even respond to something like that?  I finally looked up at Mr. H.  He was . . . grinning.

            . . .Seriously?

            I gave a slight nervous laugh and said something like “Yes, sir, good one.” Awkward.

            I opened my backpack and read the titles to see which one Mr. H would want to read.  They were all things I had to read for class like “Of Mice and Men” and “Where the Red Fern Grows.”  I didn’t really like any of them, but I figured old people like these kind of books.  I held up each one, but Mr. H. didn’t respond to anything.  He just stared.

Way to make this more awkward, dude.

            Finally I just picked a random one: “A Separate Peace.”  Bleh.

            I started reading again, hoping for no more interruptions.  I described every flippin’ blade of grass and every flippin’ leaf on the tree to the point where I stopped listening to myself.  Time was just about up when my phone dinged again.

            “Yes, sir?” I asked, kind of annoyed.  “Have you already read this one too?”

            Crap.   “Is it that obvious?”  He nodded.  “I’m sorry, sir.  Is there a certain book you want me to bring next time?”

            I have to pick?  Great, more pressure.  “Okay, sir, sounds good.” I packed up my bag.  “See ya next week.”  I got up to leave and my phone dinged one more time.

            I really need to work on my poker face.