Snippet #2019243

Mikhail helped her sit down, and squatted in front of her. "Are you sure you're okay? You looked really sick." Her eyes were closed, head kneeling. Mikhail remembered her from yesterday. She had sat by herself, playing on a phone.

"You still look kinda sick..." Mikhail added after studying her face. "Here..." he put his hand on her forehead. A forward motion, perhaps, for an American, but not for him. He just hoped she wasn't one of those psycho girls who'd punch him afterwards.

Her skin felt sweaty, but not feverish, and he took his hand away. "I guess it isn't anything physical," he said. "Perhaps, you are nervous?" He had moved around a lot, but he knew of people who had never lived in more than one house. Changing schools could be a big and terrifying change.