(Ron)
Reed is playing with a Spidey action figure on the rug while I’ve been sitting on my bed trying to finish some French homework. I’m not failing French, so that’s good, but I still wish I was better at it.
“Dinner’s ready,” mom says, “Reed? Ron? Come down and eat before your food gets cold.”
With that, we both hurry to the dining room. Dad’s already seated, flicking his thumb across the screen of his phone before putting it on sleep mode and tossing it into the little basket at the centre of the table. It’s a rule in my house –we’re not allowed to use the phones while we’re eating.
Dining begins.
“So how’s the play coming along, honey?” mom asks.
“It’s going great. Olivia and I have already started ‘blocking’ –running lines without reading them off the script,” I tell her.
“When’s the play exactly?” dad asks.
“April 1st, 2nd and 3rd, most likely,” I inform him. “You’re all coming?”