Mitch has quite an attitude.

"Dammit," Scott swore, carefully placing the pile of things he was carrying and bending to grab the book that he'd dropped.

But Mitch kicked it away, grabbing it. "'Hitchhiker's Guide to the- Seriously, Scott? This book is, like, eighty thousand years old."

"It's good," Scott said.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Mitch asked, still holding the book and glancing at the messy pile of things Scott had dumped on the table.

"I found this stuff in a box at the back of my closet," replied Scott. "I'm just gonna look through it."

"Cool. I'm gonna help," said the countertenor. He picked up a piece of paper and unrolled it. "Wow. This is literally a thousand years old. It got such a bad grade."

"I didn't like science," Scott replied, snatching the poster back.

Mitch kept looking through. He pulled out a drawing. "What the heck is this even supposed to be?"

They stayed up late, looking through all of Scott's old things.

"I remember this!" exclaimed Mitch, holding a little knot bracelet that Scott used to wear. "I hated it."

Scott looked down. "I wore it every day."

"I know. I'm going to bed, bye," Mitch said, getting up and leaving.

Scott sat there for several minutes, thinking, until he followed Mitch and knocked on the bedroom door.

"Yeah?" Mitch called. He was sitting up in bed.

Scott opened the door. "Is this a new painting? It's stupid. And that lamp? Even more stupid," he said in a high-pitched voice.

"What?"

"What makes you think that you're better than me?" exclaimed Scott.

"I-I don't-" Mitch stammered.

"Yeah you do," Scott interrupted. "You think you can criticize everything I do." He sat on the edge of the bed and was surprised when Mitch shrunk back. "I hate your attitude."

The countertenor looked close to tears. "I would say I hate you back, but I'm not going to lie."

Scott was even more surprised.

"And you know why I talk like that about the things you do? Because I know I'll never be that perfect," Mitch continued, his voice a harsh whisper. "And maybe I'm a bit jealous. Of how tall you are, and how talented you are, and how- I dunno. It's just hard."

"What?" Scott almost laughed. Mitch, who was so proud, and so perfect, was jealous of him? "Listen, you're a better singer than I am. Being short beats being tall any day."

"That's not true," Mitch mumbled.

"Yeah it is," insisted Scott.

"Really?"

"Course."

"Well, I guess I am pretty great," Mitch said.

Scott laughed. Maybe his attitude's okay, after all.