Light.

Bed made. Biscuits in the oven. I am forgetting something.

First one in. I tell her I just needed a little bit of quiet, needed to remove myself from the morning rush of getting everyone to school.

I’d rather spend my time on other things.

But what is next?

I know this about myself: once you’re on “the list,” you’re on “the list,” and there’s no way of removing yourself from it. Once I’ve mentally disengaged, I’m done. Done, done. I hate not caring, but when I don’t care, I really don’t care, and that causes a lot of problems.

What are we even doing here?

Everything on the inside is screaming.

She tells me that the rumor is I kicked her off the team. “Well, that’s true.”

It’s only nine, but it’s the right nine. It’s only eight, but it’s the right eight.