Alyssa sat hunched over her desk when she heard her door creak open and sensed a small pair of eyes peek through. A smile dancing on the owner's face thinking she had not yet noticed him.

"Go away, Kyle," She said flatly, "I told you I'm busy."

Taking that as an invitation to come in, Kyle swung the door open and made his way over toward her desk.

"Hi, Alyssa--"

Alyssa shut her eyes, folded her lips firmly back into her mouth, and let out a rushing breath through her nostrils. His soft, rounded face remained vacant. Alyssa tried to remember what he looked like back when his cheeks were sharper. It was all that crap he ate over the past few years. She looked down at his shirt. It was sprinkled with chicken nugget crumbs, barbecue sauce stains, and streaks of grease in places he whipped his sticky hands. His hands were never not sticky. The crumbs reminded her of the ones she found dusted around an empty package of Golden Oreos alongside a finger-printed, half-drunk glass of murky milk on the dining room table last night. He had only opened that package a day ago, and it was already gone. His eating habits were disgusting. He wasn't very active anymore either. All he did was play stupid video games on his PS4. And if he wasn't doing that, he was looking up stupid memes on his phone. And if he wasn't doing that, he was watching stupid youtube videos on his computer. She could not, for the life of her, reason why anyone would find videos of a poorly animated Spongebob screaming and making penis jokes funny, let alone the least bit entertaining. He was a complete bum. He had no other interests. How lame was that? He was going to have no life, no future. Did he not care? Those electronic devices were just rotting his brain away. His attention span was absolute shit. He couldn't even read a book that was two grade levels beneath his for five minutes without complaining that he was bored. Helping him with his homework was the worst. It was so goddamn frustrating the way he acted so helpless. He rushed through reading the directions to questions and got them completely wrong. He gave up after the first attempt and couldn't see how he could possibly apply himself any further.

That's wrong. Try again.

But I don't know how to do it.

You've only attempted it once. Try to figure it out on your own.

But I don't know how! Why can't you just help me?

Because you need to learn how to do things on your own!

I told you I don't know how to do it!

You've only tried it once!

He was so stubborn--stubborn to the point where it was unbearably annoying. He would ask the same questions over and over: Can I have a playdate today? Can you think about it? Did you think about it? Did you text Johnathan's mom to ask if he can come over today? Did his mom answer? If his mom doesn't answer can Lucas come over instead? Or can I go over to Lucas' house? I'm not inviting myself over--I just want to ask him if it's okay if I can go to his house since you said you don't know your plans right now. Did Johnathan's mom answer back? Can I check your phone to see if his mom texted back? No wonder his friends didn't want to be around him for too long. He was absolutely exhausting. And she was absolutely exhausted--exhausted with the way he constantly complained about things being too hard, the way he could not focus and just sit still, the way he poked, prodded, and teased her to get attention, the way his fingerprints marked up everything he touched, the way he asked questions incessantly until she had to shut him up herself.

"Oh my God, Kyle. I told you I'm busy. Can you not see that I'm doing work right now? Please, just go!"

A sad confusion filled Kyle's eyes as his hands fidgeted with a pen on her desk.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I love you," he said as he placed the pen in the cup where it belonged. Just before he left, he peeked his head through the doorway, his upper body hanging on the handle, and asked, "do you want the door open or closed?" Alyssa felt a small pang in her heart. He was such a sweet kid. It wasn't entirely his fault that he was the way he was, and she knew that. She wanted to give him a hug--to wrap him in her arms and protect him from a world that was bound to isolate him and show no sympathy. The least she could do was apologize. But she didn't. Instead, she turned back towards her laptop and said, "closed."