Heading to bed, I doubt I'll be able to sleep with the gun in my room.

Petr is present as promised the next morning. I don't try to avoid him this time, sensing he's direct enough to confront me if I do. He's back in his normal booth and already has his coffee.

Not sure why that irks me, but it does. I take him his pie. "Cheating on me already?" I quip and then immediately wish I could take the words back. "With coffee." Yeah, that doesn't help much. "Eat your pie." I'm neck deep in the hole I'm digging and too stupid to stop.

He grins, the roguish expression lighting up his features.

I give him the cold shoulder, at least until it's time for a refill. I've never had the urge to stalk someone's coffee cup in my life like I do his, and I wait impatiently for the opening that a refill gives me. Finally, it comes, and I approach.

"I, um, changed my mind," I say casually as I pour. "Todd can go to karate."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

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He's starting to smile.

"Don't try to take credit for it," I snap.

"No ma'am." His eyes are sparkling. "What changed your mind?"

"Aside from the fact you're right?" I ask in a disgruntled tone. "I guess I had a come-to-Jesus moment last night. He's growing up, and I have to let him be a teen."

"And …"

Petr's too smart. Somehow, he knows I'm not the kind to change my mind without a damned good reason.

There's something about Petr that makes me want to tell him. Our brief interactions aren't enough for me to know fully what kind of a person he is, but … he's different. Very different. I've been emotionally isolated for so long, it's tempting to tell him, to trust someone else, even just a little. I'm also out of practice, afraid and feel myself hit the brakes considering it.

"That's it."

"I'll take it," he replies. "Start Monday?"

"Sure." I hesitate to leave, my heart heavy with what I discovered last night. "Do you think it'll help him?" The way I say it sounds awful. "Not that he needs help but maybe it'll make it easier for him to adjust?"

"It should. I've seen a lot of troubled kids turn it around with sports or martial arts."

"Troubled. You really think he's troubled." Oh, god. This is the most painful conversation ever.

"Sorry. Troubled might be harsh," Petr answers softly. "He's a good kid, but I do think something is bothering him. An after school activity might take his mind off things."

Nibbling on my lower lip, I nod. Petr is gentler than he needs to be about the topic, and I'm secretly relieved he's not judging me or Todd.




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