“Do you have them?”
“Do you have what your end of the deal was?”
“Do I look stupid?”
“Isn’t that why you need them?”
“No.”
“Fine. Trade.”
He fumbles with the mint condition action figure, the “doll” as his dad so fondly calls it. He hesitates before placing it in Snoopy’s hand. That’s what everyone calls him, Snoopy.
“Come on man, having second thoughts?”
Riley shook his head feverishly. He wanted what Snoopy had. He reasoned with himself again. He has a collection, this was one in 37 he could definitely spare it.
“Okay,” Riley admitted defeat and placed the action figure in Snoopy’s outstretched hand. Riley has a collection, his Dad had bought this one for him, thinking it was a passing fancy, collecting “dolls” would be a one time thing. Then, Riley wanted more and more and more. Riley knew his Dad was disappointed, that he was upset his son wasn’t more of a jock. With these let down expectations Riley releases the action figure and holds out his hand for the pills that will make his parents proud. That will hone his smarts in on his midterm so he will be able to wow them and have them think, “my son sure does collect “dolls”, but he’s also smart as hell.”
One, two, three, four, a bottle is emptied into his hand. Riley smiles and prepares himself for his parents, finally being proud of their only son, he prepares himself for the wave of admiration and joy they will feel. He prepares himself for a new, addi