Si Ang's hand hovered over Richie's head, unsure whether to rest it there or pull it back.
He wanted to comfort Richie, but he was afraid he might actually see him crying.
If Richie really was crying, he hadn't figured out how to soothe him yet.
Si Ang stood there agonizing, his toes practically digging into the floor. At this rate, he wouldn't need to buy a house-he could carve out a bedroom and three living rooms with his toes.
While Si Ang wrestled with his dilemma, Anya came running over, her footsteps pattering urgently.
Seeing her big brother Richie slumped over his desk, Anya reached out to rouse him and offer some comfort.
Just as her little hand was about to touch Richie's head, Henry's stern voice came from outside the door:
"Richie Forger, come with me to the Faculty Office."
Henry stood in the classroom doorway, and the explosive chatter in the room abruptly died.
Richie hadn't fallen asleep. He had been resting with his head on his desk.
Hearing Henry call him, he lifted his head quite naturally and motioned with his eyes for Si Ang to let him through.
Si Ang stood up and made way for Richie.
As soon as he stepped out from his seat, Richie saw Anya's big, watery eyes.
"Richie, big brother-" Anya faltered, unsure how to put what she wanted to say into words.
Richie gave her a sweet smile and reached out to ruffle her hair:
"It's all right, Anya. Mr. Henry probably just wants to ask me exactly what happened in class.
I'll explain everything to him properly, so don't worry! Be good-wait for me to come back."
Even after Richie gently reassured her, Anya still looked a little worried. But she said nothing more and nodded firmly:
"Anya