The Way He Looked at Me
“Some of the bigger kids said I should play in their group. Ten- to twelve-year-olds. I said yes.”
“Absolutely not,” Cole says, calm, iron-strong.
“Why not?!” Nathan huffs. “I’m almost seven!”
“I know,” Cole replies. “That’s why you’re playing six-to-seven. And soon, you’ll move up. Eights, nines…”
Nathan crosses his arms, pout fierce enough to rival any cartoon character. “I’m almost seven! In dog years, that’s like… forty!”
Cole and I exchange glances, confused.
“You’re not a dog, Nathan,” Cole says evenly.
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