“Leave that window open,” my mom fanned her flushed face, “it’s hot in here.”
“No, we want it closed,” shouted Joy from outside.
Joy was the other mom/coach in our group. She was a lot of fun, high-spirited and basically almost like one of the other teens in a lot of ways.
“You’re outside. Why do you care if the window is open or not?” asked my mom. She had a really confused look on her face and I could see her point. Why did people on the outside care if a window on the inside was open or not? It really made no sense.
“We’re talking about something.”
I was still naive at this point and didn’t think to wonder what they were talking about that they didn’t want anyone else to overhear. Or how strange it was that a thirty-something woman would sit outside with a group of teenage girls and gossip about people on the inside. No, I still was enthralled by Joy, like all the others. I hadn’t yet come to know the real Joy. What I saw was a facade.
