Becky waited in the carpool line for fifteen minutes. Her daughter waited by the teacher. Her face was red. Her dress was crumpled. The teacher opened the rear passenger door. Her daughter tossed her backpacked. The straps hit the side of the door. Then she plumped down in the seat and slammed the car door shut.
“Are you Ok?”
“Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?”
“Can you use words to talk to me?”
“Ok, we can stop for a drink. It just seems like something is bothering you.”
“Yah, I’m thristy.”