So My Son's a Little Shit

Cathy couldn't help but worry about her son, he'd been sickly ever since he was a child, but now that he was getting older he was more, and more resistant to the daily check ups that she'd been giving him since childhood. She never knew whether he was going to fight her on it, or lay in bed milking every second of the attention his sister wasn't getting. She grabbed her bag, and knocked on his bedroom door. "Jamie?"

He really didn't want to go to school. Even though it wasn't until the next day, Jamie thought it'd be less suspicious if he said he started feeling sick the day before, rather than on the morning.
Hearing his mother knock, he pulled his blankets up over his head so that only part of his hair was visible and curled up.

Cathy frowned when he didn't answer her, and pushed the door open. "Jamie, sweetie?" she asked gently. "Are you okay, honey?"

"Hm?" Jamie said from underneath his covers, poking his head out just enough to see her.

Cathy frowned a bit. "Are you okay, my darling boy?"

"...no?" Was Jamie's quiet reply.