Jamie was back in his room, the tip of his pencil skimming over a sketchpad. He was starting to feel better now that he was sleeping more, and that his portfolio was so close to complete, he could taste it. He had his music on, but not loud enough that it drowned out the apartment door opening and closing. That meant his dad was home, and once he finished this section of his sketch, he'd go and say hello.
That took a bit longer than he'd planned, but eventually, he stood up and stretched, tucking his pencil behind his ear and heading for his father's room. He knocked softly, poking his head inside, eyes shut, the way his father always did when he came in. "Hey," he said. "What's up, how was your day?"