"Don't you knock anymore?" Mikey said, shrilly. "Can't I have some privacy around here?"
"Sorry...I wanted to know if you could come down for breakfast," Jon said. "What are you doing?"
"Getting rid of stuff," Mikey said. "I mean...this is my room now, right? And I hate this stuff...I'm going to take it to that store at the mall and trade it for something I actually like..."
"Well, you should ask before getting rid of all of it."
Mikey stood up, and pushed out his chest. "You tell me...do I look like these clothes are mine now? I would bet the person who used to own that can't pull them off anymore and doesn't give a damn. I mean...look at you...you look like..."
"You can stop there, young lady...man..." Jon said. "I know very well how I look and how you look. I don't have a problem with that. Just...you don't have to challenge everything I say."
Mikey exhaled. "Sorry," he said. "I just..." he sounded almost apologetic.
"I do have a question for you though, while I am here...I am just curious." He walked over to the desk and pulled out one of Zoe's schoolbooks out, a piece of paper, and a pen. He opened it to a random page. "Can you read this page and answer these questions?"
"Why?" he said.
"Indulge me," Jon said.
The boy turned teen shook his head, his long hair swaying as he did, and sat down. He started reading the page and answering the questions on a blank sheet of paper, writing in a rather elegant cursive. It was only 5 paragraphs and a few questions.
"Sign the answers and put your date of birth," Jon said.
"What is this? One of those state tests?" Mikey muttered. But did it.
Jon took it as soon as he was done. "Hmm..." he said.
"Hmm? What's wrong with it?"
"Well, for one, when did you learn cursive?" Not every school even taught it anymore...some having replaced it with keyboarding. "And these are ninth grade questions."
"So, the software matches the hardware...what's wrong?" Mikey didn't seem particularly concerned about it.
"Not wrong...just...you said you don't feel like a little kid anymore...That isn't just one thing...you have to show it."
"Does that mean I have to treat you like an old lady?"
Jon put his hands on his hips. "I'm not old..." he protested. "Now...you can start showing me how mature you are by helping out at breakfast," he said. "And maybe after that, we'll have a boy's day out for a bit...Try to get used to this."
"Boys?"
Jon let out an exasperated sigh, putting the paper Mikey had written out in his pocket. "Girls, boys....Team Vagina..." Mikey stifled a giggle at that one. "Whatever you want to call it. Then after that we can talk about how Monday is going to play out."
"Deal," Mikey said. They headed toward the door.
