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Fiction Foundry 11

"Desmond.," Mrs. Potain said with the soft-but-firm tone moms use when they're a little embarrassed, "that's not very friendly."

"Sorry. Hi." Desmond said and offered the briefest wave in Mike's direction. (Actually, it looked like he was shooing a fly away, as much as anything else.)

After an awkward moment, Mrs. Potain continued: "Ah...Mike, do you like sports?"

"Not particularly, ma'am," Mike replied.

"Oh. That's too bad.  Claire and Desmond were planning to go to the baseball game this afternoon.  I thought it might be nice for you to join them.  I would so like for them to make new friends here."

Claire sighed and rolled her eyes--the universal teenage "DANGER: lame parents!" signal.  Desmond gave no indication he'd even heard the comment, instead staring at (almost into) one of the sanctuary's stained glass biblical scenes.

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