The playground sign read Peewees.
The paint had faded, and one corner of the metal bent inward. Children gathered there during lunch, standing in small groups or sitting along the low concrete border. Some kicked stones. Others argued about rules to a game that kept changing.
Eli sat alone near the edge of the yard. His lunchbox rested beside him, unopened. He traced a line in the dust with the toe of his shoe.
A boy called out his name once. Eli looked up, raised his hand slightly, then looked back down. The boy ran off.
Across the yard, Ms. Hale stood near the classroom window. She held a stack of papers and watched the Peewees through the glass. When the bell rang, she turned and went back inside.
After lunch, Eli returned to class and took his seat by the window. The desk had a small scratch shaped like a crescent. He ran his finger along it while Ms. Hale wrote on the board.
"Hand in your assignments," she said.
Eli placed his paper on the corner of her desk. She glanced at the name, then at the page.
"Stay after class for a moment," she said.
He nodded and returned to his seat.
When the room emptied, Ms. Hale handed his paper back. A star was drawn in the top corner.
"You're consistent," she said.
Eli folded the paper and placed it in his bag.
"If you need extra materials," she added, "they're in the cabinet."
"I'm okay," he replied.
At home, the apartment was quiet. Eli placed his shoes neatly by the door. He washed his hands, then sat at the kitchen table. The calendar hung on the wall above the sink. One date was circled in red ink.
He stood on a chair and adjusted the calendar so it hung straight again.
Later, he opened a notebook from beneath his bed. Several pages were torn out. He flipped to a blank one and wrote slowly, stopping after each line to reread it. When he finished, he folded the page carefully and set it aside.
That evening, his mother moved between rooms, phone pressed to her ear. She paused by the door.
"Don't stay up late," she said.
"I won't," Eli replied.
When the door closed, he returned to his room. He placed the folded page inside an envelope and slid it into his backpack. He checked the zipper twice.
The next day at school, the Peewees gathered again. A ball rolled toward Eli's feet. He stopped it and nudged it back with his shoe.
"Thanks," someone said.
Eli nodded.
After school, he walked home instead of taking the bus. He stopped once to retie his shoe, then continued. At home, he placed his backpack on the chair instead of the floor.
Inside the closet, a small box sat behind a row of shoes. He opened it, looked inside, then closed it and pushed it farther back.
That night, he returned to the notebook and added one more line beneath the first. He folded the page again, more carefully this time, and placed it back in the envelope.
On the front, he wrote one word.
"Mom."