Mom looks over at me questioning me. I can see the faint lines of worry on her face and her crystal blue eyes show worry. I have the same honey blond hair, though hers is curled and mine is limp and shaggy.
We drive in silence because she knows how much I hate this decision of hers. She knows I never wanted to come here. My hands are still in fists clenched tightly on my lap. It feels like she is just throwing me away by taking me to this place.
Dad left us years before, but I never expected her to do the same. I guess I am too much for her too. Seventeen year-old guys aren't easy to raise, but I at least tried to be good to her. I guess it doesn't matter much that I tried then.
It doesn't matter what I do, say, or how I act--because mom will still send me to the boarding school that still takes unwanted boys, the Williams Lockwood Academy.