"Ma," Tick said, his voice loud in my ears, "Ma, Jet's poking me again." I move my hand from above my little brothers belly, messing up his dirty blonde hair then folding my fingers in my lap. My eyes wander the old room, just trying to pass the time before I hear my mothers footsteps coming down the hall. When she does enter shes wearing goggles and a brow apron stained with grease over top of an off white blouse and ankle-length brown skirt.
