You can't go talk to those people. You have to
get home to cook for your mother. You want to
make your mother happy.

You look back at the people once more. They look
like they're having fun together. A pang of hurt
goes through your chest, but there isn't much you
can do. Even if wanting to have friends is important
to you, making your mother happy is even more
important.

You leave without saying anything.