[ . . . he did send something recent, and he hopes it isn’t that as his heart sinks, meandering over—
what was already a growing green tint around the cheeks goes deep and all the way down to his neck and at the tips of his ears. sputtering, sputtering, sputtering— and his voice cracks the signature way a teenage boy’s does. ]
I— I didn’t send that, I didn’t— write it, [ clears his throat an octave, ] like that—
no subject
what was already a growing green tint around the cheeks goes deep and all the way down to his neck and at the tips of his ears. sputtering, sputtering, sputtering— and his voice cracks the signature way a teenage boy’s does. ]
I— I didn’t send that, I didn’t— write it, [ clears his throat an octave, ] like that—