Lin and Georgie called me on three-way as soon as they got home from school that day to see if I was okay. Georgie was frantic, but Lin was matter-of-fact. Georgie started saying things like "you know we care a lot about you" and "we want to help you" and "please, Harris, talk to us." Lin succinctly told me not to be an idiot again because he'd miss me. I wasn't in the mood to listen to them, and I mumbled my replies, but later I was really glad that they cared enough about me to worry. I owed those two a lot more credit than I gave them, but I'd been so dejected lately that I'd been ignoring them.

"Miss Monough was really worried about you," Georgie reported. "'Cuz she overheard from Tori Li that you ran away from home and no one knew where you were. She was really shaken all through class."

Shit, I thought. Lin and Georgie said kids had somehow found out about me running away and had spread it like the pox, so all the teachers probably knew. That poor Redde boy is a troubled child, poor boy, poor boy, he does often look sad, doesn't he? Like I needed that. I hoped Miss Monough hadn't lost any sleep over me, for I really liked her. She was my math teacher, and she was the only one who thought I was worth anything. She's young�a former classmate of Arik's, as a matter of fact�and this was her first year teaching, but she's a good teacher. She was always complimenting me on my skill with math, and I often talked to her after school about things that were bothering me. She knew Arik well, so she can tell me silly stuff he did in high school to make me feel better. Like how he ran into a goalpost at a pep rally during junior year. Ha.

The school year was drawing to a close. We'd had a very mild winter with no snow days, so we were getting out early in June. There were only a few weeks left before finals, and then freshman year was over forever. School was far too trivial and stressful to deal with, but I found it hard to look forward to summer, where I wouldn't be able to escape from my parents. I hoped Lin and Georgie wouldn't mind if I spent the summer rotating between their houses.

The last few weeks were not enjoyable. I felt physically and emotionally heavy and distanced from everyone. I didn't talk much, and I often felt like crying. I wondered if I was depressed. Miss Monough asked me if I was. I told her no so that she wouldn't worry, but she gave me her e-mail address and told me to keep in touch with her over the summer.

Miss Monough was the only one who confronted me about running away, but I heard the whispers, felt the suspicious glances, and sensed the pity and mistrust. I was one of those Poor Troubled Kids now, pitied and feared by all. Poor Harry Redde, something's not right at home. Do you think his father drinks? Look what he did to his hair�do you think he's suicidal? Gee, I never would have suspected him, of all people.

I couldn't concentrate on work, and I daydreamed more than ever. I wrote more song lyrics than notes, more odes to my Conor than homework. ("I swear that I'm dying, slowly, but it's happening. And if the perfect spring is waiting somewhere, just take me there." ) At home I threw myself into studying for finals because I had nothing else to do. I had no motivation, and no more concentration for that than I did normal schoolwork. I could ace all of them, and my parents still wouldn't be satisfied. I'd still be stupid selfish ugly spoiled arrogant. So I read and read, but nothing sunk in. For weeks I fell asleep on my floor, facedown on my textbooks, my music playing softly.

("And you wake up in the morning to find out you are not who you used to be." )

My parents tiptoed around me. They had me eat separately, or if I did eat with them, they didn't make me take my headphones off. I almost wished they would, but they obviously preferred to not have to speak to me.

Finals went horribly. I felt so dead inside that nothing went right. The simplest Geometry problem, and I struggled. I got an 85 on my math final, the worst grade I'd ever gotten in that class.

I was too apathetic to take History seriously. Everyone was already dead, everything had already happened, and I'll never change the world, so knowing this war and that king won't benefit our lives. Got a 75. I forgot how to conjugate in French: 72. Biology was a joke. There was an essay on meiosis and chromosomes or some shit like that. I wracked my brain and came up with nothing, even though I'd studied the chapter for hours. Homologous chromosomes. Homo. Homo = Arik. Arik = family. Family = dysfunctional and idiotic. Chromosomes = dysfunctional and idiotic? I filled in the essay, "Knowing this useless crap will not make me a better person," and then scribbled angsty Bright Eyes lyrics until the exam ended. Mr. Maxwell gave me a 70 and a long scolding written in red ink.

I nearly had an emotional breakdown during my English final. The test could have been written in Japanese, and I would have done better. With all my absences, I'd missed too many important classroom discussions that related to the essays, so I had no clue how to respond. I became so stressed my eyes played tricks on me. My vision blacked out for fifteen minutes and remained splotchy for the rest of the testing time. I was the last one out of the room and only handed it in, half-blank, when Dingle assured me that he was sorry, but he had an important appointment to make, and I simply couldn't stay any longer. To make matters worse, it turned out I had done the entire test in purple ink, which completely violated Dingle's strict 'blue or black, or fail' rule. Stupidly, I'd borrowed a pen from Justin, and he'd given me the purple pen as a joke, knowing I was too colorblind to know the difference. I burst into tears and started babbling like an idiot about my eyes and my family, and Dingle was so stunned he was speechless.

I think the only reason he passed me with a 65 was because he felt bad for me.

His was my last final. I left his room with tears still in my eye, missed my bus, and had to call Arik for a ride. My eye must have still been red and glassy when he picked me up, because he bugged me about it all the way home. I told him I'd done poorly on my finals, and all he had to say was, "Aw, don't worry about it, kiddo! Mum and Dad won't be that mad!"

In actuality, they weren't angry at all. When my report card came in the mail, they didn't say a word about my B's, C's, and D's. They were horribly disappointed, and their long faces and heavy sighs showed how upset they were. Can't get into college with these. They put my report card in a drawer and didn't speak of it. I guess they figured if they yelled at me again I'd kill myself.

They'd given up on me. I was incorrigibly bad, and there was no hope for me anymore. I would never be smart and handsome like Arik. I would never be anything more than the family skeleton-in-the-closet, the loser son they didn't talk about. I was the family problem, with no apparent solution other than to leave me alone and pray I didn't get worse.

I'd always thought that I'd like having them leave me alone, but in a way, this was much worse than before. At least when they were screaming at me, they were acknowledging my existence, and they were yelling in hopes that I'd be better next time. Now they wanted to pretend I wasn't there, and they didn't waste their time trying to improve me.

At least Arik was out of my hair for the summer, since this was the busy airship season, and he'd be off on business for months. Having him gone was a plus at least. Maybe, if I got lucky, he'd fall overboard and drown. I guess it was bad that I could think such things about my own brother, but then, I'm not a good person, am I?

All I really wanted was to be able to spend some time with Georgie and Lin. Give me some all-nighters in Georgie's basement with Playstation marathons and late-night hikes through town, and maybe I could pull myself out of this heavy-hearted funk. Get me out of this house and with people who care about me, and I'll be fine.

My parents, however, had other ideas about how I should spend my summer.

At dinner a few days into summer, my mother reached over and turned off my discman. When I looked up, she declared, "Harry, your father and I want to discuss something with you."

Dad turned to Romey. "Romey, sweetie, would you mind going to your room, please?"

"But I want to hear�" Romey squeaked.

"Rosemary," Dad murmured stonily, and Romey leapt up from the table and skittered upstairs.

Mum and Dad halted from their cleaning of the table and sat down. My stomach dropped; this was starting to look bad.

"Harrison, these past few months haven't been fun for any of us," Dad began. "Your behavior has been appalling, your grades have declined significantly� It's been very tough on all of us as a family."

It's been tough on YOU?

"We�we think you need a change of scenery," Mum continued.

My heart began to race. I had sudden visions of military camps, reform schools, mental hospitals�

"I'm not going anywhere!" I cried.

"Harrison�"

"Don't send me away! It's summer�you can't send me away all summer!"

"Harrison, listen. We're not sending you away, per se�"

Per se? "Where are you sending me?" I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

Mum and Dad looked at each other and clasped hands. They'd rehearsed this. Finally Mum spoke:

"We want you to spend the summer working with Arik on the airship."

"W-what?!" I gasped, stunned.

"It's hard work, which you could sorely use. You'll learn something," Dad said.

"Arik thinks it's a wonderful idea. Besides, he hasn't been able to round up a crew for this summer, and he can't operate the ship alone. And you know how lonely he is without Bryce," Mum added.

"Tell him to fuck himself!" I screamed. "I'm not spending all summer with that faggot!"

"Harrison-Addison, watch your language!" Dad yelled. "Arik is a great role model for you�you could learn a lot from him!"

"No! I'm not Arik! I never will be Arik! I HATE him! I HATE him! I wish he were dead!"

"HARRISON, STOP!" Mum scolded. "Don't you dare say that about your brother! What's the matter with you? Christ, Harry, be reasonable for just one minute! You're going blind! You've said yourself that it's a shame that you couldn't see more of the world before you lost your vision. This is a good opportunity to see the world and get to know your brother!"

"I DON'T WANT TO KNOW HIM! I HATE HIM!"

"HARRISON!" Dad bellowed, and he stood, slamming his palms down on the table so hard every piece of cutlery on the table rattled.

"It's my summer, my life�you can't make me waste my summer with him!"

"No, that's the beauty of it!" Dad snapped. "We're your parents, and you're just a kid�we can make you! And we are making you. You're going to the ship tomorrow afternoon, so you'd better pack up your things. And don't even think of running away again�we're watching you, and if you try anything, you will pay for it!"

I was trembling with fury. All summer with that idiot?! That was worse than any military camp! So this was my sentence, my punishment, for not being what they wanted me to be! They were exiling me away to live with Human Perfection so that he would fix me!

"I hate you!" I yelled. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

Mum and Dad were calm, and Dad had sat down again. "We've decided this, Harry. Throwing a temper tantrum will not help matters."

Temper tantrum?!

I picked up my plate off the table and smashed it as hard as I could against the table. It shattered, sending pieces flying in every direction, and Mum and Dad leapt up. I snatched up a drinking glass and hurled it against the wall.

"STOP! Christ, Harrison! What's wrong with you?" Dad yelled. "Clean that up!"

"I HATE YOU!" I screeched, slamming another glass at my feet, tears in my eyes.

"Get out of here!" Dad hissed.

I seized a third glass and threw it at his face�and then ran from the room.

Behind me, I heard Mum give a taut sigh and murmur, "That went well."

next chapter...