Bad behaviour

　　“I missed a class,” I say to the figure on my screen. “No. “ My head shakes. “Classes. I missed classes.”

　　Maria squeals. I plug my fingers into my ears. “Yasss. My baby girl is growing.”

　　Only Maria applauds bad behaviour. I push my laptop forward and prop my elbows on the table. A small smile lifts the corners of my lips at the memory of Tuesday’s outing. My Benny. We should do more of it.

　　“It was really nice, Maria,” I tell her. The talk, the moment of peaceful silence. His presence. Everything was perfect. Maria’s head bobs in agreement and I tuck my hands under my chin. “I think I’ll do it again.”

　　Her screen goes black for a nanosecond, the ceiling of her room comes into view, then her face. Her jaw drops like she’s hyperventilating. She’s such a drama queen. Sure, I would never do something like that on a normal day but yeah, I did it. And she can get over it. It was fun. The kind I would love to repeat.