When I get home,
I find Mom and Dad
sitting quietly
on the living room sofa,
eyes frozen
on me,
like they’re about to drop
some seriously bad news.
I’m not sure
if someone’s lost a job,
if someone has died,
or if they’re pissed
because I came in late
on a school night, or forgot
to do something I was
supposed to do.
All I know is
when there’s a family meeting,
it’s usually something grim,
and it begins with . . .