“Sorry,” I said. “You’re not the victim here. You’re the adult. As is your ex"
T
he boy sitting in front of me was pretending to be high.
Pinny had been suspended from his yeshivah. His rebbi had negotiated for him to return, and one of the conditions was that I devise a follow-up plan, a protocol the school could follow and that Pinny would agree to adhere to. The problem was that Pinny seemed to be enjoying himself. He didn’t care if he got thrown out.
But his rebbi did care, and he was fighting for Pinny.
Pinny wanted me to think that he was high, so I played along. “Do your parents know you smoke?” I asked.
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