“Well, yes, she is. We weren't expecting you.” Rick spoke slowly, as if still processing Jesse's sudden appearance—as if this was somehow as radical to him as had a redcoat soldier banged down the door in the night demanding to be quartered. He stuttered. “You're always welcome… but if you're going to get home at a time like this… Well,” Rick said. “Maybe a little warning beforehand.”

Jesse was tragically amused that Rick cared. “I dropped out,” Jesse said. He abandoned his jacket on the back of the couch and headed for the stairs.

“Hold on, Jesse. Now—wait,” requested Rick, who had momentarily stopped gaping. “Would you just please wait a moment?”

Jesse slowly turned back toward Rick.

Rick sighed, apparently feeling it necessary to dial back the volume of his exasperation. The thick rims of his glasses sealed in his eyes, and the lenses hollowed them out, leaving them shadows in the dim light. “What do you mean you dropped out? You didn't enroll for next semester?” asked Rick. Too much.

“It doesn't matter. Don't worry about it,” Jesse said. “Can we talk tomorrow? Please? I need to sleep.”

Rick had defaulted back to gaping. “Absolutely not, Jesse!” Rick pulled off his glasses and rubbed whatever life was left out of one eye. “I'm not letting you get away with that. Tell me what you mean and we'll work it out.”

“Yeah,” Jesse said. “Sure.” He headed for the stairs.

“Jesse!” Rick said.

The tone stopped Jesse in his tracks. He turned back toward Rick. “I would tell you all about it,” Jesse said, his hands pressed casually and deep into his pockets—his gaze cast down to his own feet, “If I thought you'd give a shit.” He looked up at Rick.

Rick glared at him. Then he threw up his hands and said, “Fine. Why don't I just wake up your mother? Would you prefer that? I'm sure it will make her very happy to see you before she has to get up in a few hours to work on her birthday.”

Jesse shook his head and smiled. “Fine. Whatever, I don't care. Let me be Mom's problem then,” he said.