I stopped what I was doing for a moment, watching him. He was examining my rubix cube curiously. I’d messed with it so that each side had an X in one color, the other four spaces another.
“I got bored one day,” I explained, “That design’s really easy to do from a finished one. You twist the middle rows twice in each dimension.”
He stared at me blankly. I grinned, “I’ll show you later.”
He shrugged and put it down, watching me begin to peal the potatoes. “Need help?” he asked cautiously.
“Um, I don’t think so. A little birdie told me you weren’t good at cooking,” I said warily, watching his reaction in my periferal vision.
He scowled, “You talk to my mom too much.”
I grinned, relieved, “Maybe.”
He stared at me for a moment. “You look tired,” he said suddenly.
I shrugged, “Didn’t sleep well.That test freaked me out. I worry too much,” I added, grinning.
He frowned, “No. I didn’t mean right now. I meant in general.”
I clenched my hand tighter around the knife, working to keep my voice aloof, “Do I?”