It was a face off.
He sat at one end of the table clenching his jaw, staring far beyond me, carried away in his anger, turning more red every second as he struggled to push tears out of his eyes and keep his breath inside.
I sat adjacent to him, drawing a long breath, waiting for the tears to tumble over the rim of his lids, a slight furl of impatience wrinkling my brow.
"Andres, what's wrong?"
Red and brimming.
"Andres, what's wrong?
Red and brimming.
"Andres, we are just studying spelling. It isn't that terrible."
Red and brimming.
"Andres, we're going to keep going whether or not you cry. It will be easier if you lose your bad attitude."
Overflow. Outcry.
"But why? Why today? Why not another day?"
"Because you have a spelling test. That's why. And there isn't another day, I come today, the test is tomorrow. So, come on." I exhale the tedium of the hour.
"But it's not fair!" he claims.
"Andres, do you know what tough love is?"
"No"
Sniffles as I wait for him to look at me.
"It means I make you do things that you don't like because I care about you. Do you understand?...Ok, next spelling word, 'impossible'."
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