“Into the space you paid for.”
He smirked.
“If you’re not using the space, what’s the problem?”
“I am using it, Josh.”
He shook his head, put his headphones back on, and kept eating his chips.
Apparently, that settled the matter.
His words stayed with me.
I tried crossing my ankles, but his shoe was in the way. When I tucked my feet closer together, my hip began aching.
I folded my sweater and placed it beside me for support.
That helped briefly.
“Lord, help me,” I muttered.
Twenty minutes later, I was uncomfortable again.
Henry glanced over his book.
“Everything okay?”
“Just trying to get comfortable.”
His eyes moved toward Josh’s legs.
He’d noticed.
I wished he hadn’t.
For years, I’d worked as a school secretary, handling impatient parents and angry phone calls. I could settle a disagreement without raising my voice.
Yet somehow, I couldn’t persuade one grown man to move his knee.
