"I want to go home..." He didn't need to try to imagine what praise his mother might give him, not when he knew well exactly what sort of things she'd say. And how worried she'd be, even if she never actually said as much. It wasn't imagined kind words that he wanted, though, he just couldn't stand the idea of his mother being unhappy and worried.

Still, though, he couldn't let himself cry. That was usually bad. So he tried to hold it back, turning what might have otherwise been bawling into quiet, choked sobs.