Randall watched him with a condescending glare that could be easily punched off his face. Derrick had seen this same look several times in his two years of coming to meetings. These were the folks who’d had periods of sobriety and went back out, former old-timers. Now they had to start back over on Day 1, picking up that twenty-four hour chip with shame or humility or both, and they sat there eyeballing him with his two years and his youth and probably saw themselves. Not all of them responded this way, of course, just pricks like Randall.
