Socrates

It was the second day since the get-together at my home, and Hugo had not been to school.

"Could it be he's still upset?" I asked as if Addison knew the answer. We were very early today, at 7:30 were we approaching the bridge.

Few cars drove passed including a fleet of trucks carrying heavy-duty machines. I didn't need to be told where they were heading.

He folded his sleeves with one hand on the steering wheels. "I wish I knew."

"I said very mean things to him. I even called him a coward and told him to get lost."

"We both know you didn't mean it."

"But he doesn't!" I held the side of my head wearily, leaning back on my seat. "I'm a bully. A very evil one at that."

He scoffed, "You have no idea what that means." He shook his head, "bully. Nah."

I glared at him, irritated by laughter, "I'm sure no one bullied you in high school, how would you understand."