Grounded
We ate our breakfast slowly as Mr. Atkins hurried through his. He was in a rush for an 8am showing, yet still wanted to scold us so early in the morning. I felt guilty, Noah looked depressed, but the twins looked a little defiant and no longer apologetic.
"I'll be back with dinner." Mr. Atkins had taken his dishes to the sink and was getting his coat on. He grabbed his briefcase. "I will call your mom in just a few hours to explain what you boys did last night. When she calls you, you better pick up on the first ring and not a millisecond later. Understand?"
"Yes." Noah mumbled.
"Sure." The twins said simultaneously.
Mr. Atkins looked like he wanted to say more to them, but he held back, shook his head, then left out the front door.
"This is messed up." Dave clenched his fork, stabbing his scrambled eggs with aggression. "We just hung out with friends. It's not like we were drinking, speeding, or vandalizing property. I feel like we deserve some respect and recognition."