Ever since James tried to quit using the patch, he’s been having mood swings. I noticed, everyone notices—but we were too polite to point it out to him, and for that, we are probably not nice people. Despite us doing it to be nice, ostensibly.
But you can tell, you can really tell. He’ll walk into our classrooms, and he’ll look all, you know, happy and stuff—has on his yellow mask. Big cheery face with a smile and wide eyes and a sharp chin. But, then, and oh is it fast, he’ll see something else, some minor thing upsets him, and the red mask whips out of his pouch, my God. Continue reading