She could tell from the way the door opened that he was in a bad mood.
She heard kicked off shoes hit the skirting boards. Heard bags drop from frustrated shoulders.
“What’s happened kiddo?”
He sat down heavily at the table, arms crossed in teenage defiance.
“You know I’ll find out eventually..”
He exhaled through sullen lips. She tried not to smile.
“I got kicked out of jazz band.”
“Why?
“I didn’t like the music.”
“What, jazz?”
“Yeah.”
“So start your own band.”
“What? Aren’t you mad?”
“Nope.”
The arms uncrossed. The shoulders dropped. The lips curved upwards.
“Thanks mum.”
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