Post putting on a mask and plopping onto the rolling stool beside him, I professionally inquire, “Do you have a latex allergy or sensitivity?”
“Uh…” Bronny pulls his lips to one side in contemplation, “I don’t think so?”
“You wanna be emancipated, Mimi, yet you don’t even know your own allergies?”
“That album is one of thefewI have listened to outside of my preferred decades,” informs the music man himself.
“I know I’m allergic to being told what to do all the time,” he complains in tandem with slamming his head backwards.
“Meaning?”
“Meanin’ I hate that no one talks to me about whatIwant. Hashtag FFS.”
“Believe it or not,” my gloves get slid into place, “I actually get that.”
“You ain’t gotta use hashtags in rego convo,” scolds the other male in the room upon his inching closer.
“And what is Jukes not talking to you about?”
“About where I wanna go to school.”
Grabbing my mini mirror is accompanied by me asking, “You don’t wanna switch schools?”
“I don’t know that I wanna switch states!”
“States?”
“Yeah.They-”
“Thayne and Grams?”
He enthusiastically nods and resumes explaining, “Think it’d be better for me to jus’ officially move here and go to school instead of goin’ back home where theythinkI’d get into trouble again.”
“Youwouldget into trouble again,” Thayne immediately declares.
“You don’t know that!”
“Of course I know that! You’re barely stayin’ out of troublenow!”
“Tryin’ to make myself lunch isn’t gettin’ into trouble!”
“Damn near burnin’ down my kitchen ‘cause you’re busy tryin’ to take a dick pic’ is!”
“It wasn’t that bad!”
“Tell that to the insurance company!”
“Enough!” I huff prior to angling my frame to completely face Bronny. “Open.” His jaw instantly drops granting me access. “Wider.” Having him unable to talk creates the perfect opportunity for me to get more information about the situation uninterrupted. “Thayne, where exactly do you and Grams think Bronny is gonna live if he moves here?”
“What kinda question is that?” He scoffs as I move the object around in his brother’s mouth to begin my visual examination. “The same place he lives now.”
“Except,” I less than politely snip, “when the season begins – which we aren’t that far from – your ass is constantly traveling, so who’s responsible for him then?”
“You.”
It’s impossible to stop my head from swiveling around in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You’re already helpin’ me raise him now, I jus’ assumed you’d keep helpin’.” An innocent shrug is coyishly offered. “That wrong?”
