I am dreaming again.
I am also intruding, invited to eavesdrop on a tense domestic scene. Hiding behind the kitchen wall, I peek around just far enough that I can see Jeremy's parents—Robert and Miranda—standing side by side at one end of the kitchen table, arms crossed, expressions stern and severe. It gives me the impression that they are about to lecture a teenage Jeremy for doing something stupid like cheating on his test. I know he is also present in the room, just out of sight.
Instead Jeremy's voice belongs to that of a man—the scene is a recent memory. Inching my face further around the wall, my eyes fall onto him. He is wearing a gray button-up shirt and dark blue jeans. His serious choice in clothing only emphasizes the serious expression on his face.
"—She said she's fourtee
