Chapter 1: The Tip

I didn't want to get expelled. I did want to punch Reid Green. But I had already done that. And as a result I was going to get expelled. With a flash of guilt I remember what had happened.

"Hey, Glenny," smirked Reid. He and his friends walked behind him. They weren't exactly strong, but they had strength in numbers. "Where's my lunch money?"

Lunch money. Ridiculous. Reid's family was rich. He only did this because he was a bored kid with too much money. No one in their right mind would oppose him, just because his dad had money.

But the crux of the matter is that I might not be in the right mind. It runs in the family. But I didn't know it at the time.

Reid had moved on from my lunch money. It was an empty question. "Nice shirt," he said. I looked at my shirt. It was okay, but not exactly designer.

"Bet your mom can by you nice clothes like that." Again, the smirk. "Being a waitress and all." Sarcasm.

I can feel a strange pressure between my ears. I'm about to snap at him. But I have to hold it in.

"And who's you Daddy? Some drunken idiot, hm?"

My head pounds, but not from pain, but an ache of anger. My vision is blurred, and my attention is only on Reid. I never knew my father. It's a sore subject. And Reid knows it.

"I bet your dad didn't even marry your mom. I bet that you're a little bastar-,"

Too far. My vision goes dark red and I feel the rush of wild adrenaline. Before I know it, Reid is pinned against a locker, my hand on his neck. His mouth opens, screams. But his lackeys don't do anything. They've never been threatened before. Then again, I'm new to the school.

Already the rage fades. I'm left there, blood pounding and a sour taste in my mouth. I consider letting go of Reid. Just another few seconds. Then I let go.

I leave the school, and get a taxi ride. To Romano's.

Romano's is a restaurant. An Italian one. I sit there, at the waiting area for a couple of hours. Then a woman walks to me, a waitress. Curly hair tied in a ponytail, a weary look and a spark in her eyes, the pretty woman sighs. "Expelled again?"

"The notification comes tomorrow. Usually."

"I know." We look at each other for a while. I cave in to the silence.

"Sorry, Mom."

My mother sighs, and her weariness becomes more pronounced. She ordinarily looks younger then she is, but today it's older. "It's only been two weeks, sweetie."

I feel a lump in my throat. "Sorry." And then we drive home.

In the car I'm miserable. Mom turns on the ignition and we hit the road. Driving through Los Angeles, I ask my Mom a timeless question.

"What was Dad like?" depending on her mood, my mom changes her opinion. I'm curious though, and now seems like a good time to ask.

"He was the worst." Ah, she's in a bad mood. I'm quiet for a while, and look at the rearview mirror. Mom is tan, but I'm a more pale color skinned. Mom calls it Mediterranean. She said, on a rare occasion, that I got it from my dad.

"Guess what," she says, and I flinch. Almost nothing actually scares me, but Mom fights through even my rages.

"What?"

"I got a really good tip today." I smile. It's a joke. Every time she gets a good tip she thinks it's a bad omen. I've gotten expelled on those days. It was our little joke.

She smiles too, but then it goes away. She says "Glen, I don't think you can stay here."

I look at her, and tears fleck my eyes. "I can't stay? Is it because of my anger? Or all those creepy monster-like guys?" I choke out. "Are you telling me that-,"

"No." The force in her voice is clearly audible. She drives and parks her car at a corner. She holds my hand. "Glen, I love you. More than anything else in the world." She says it fiercely, but I see sadness in her eyes. "But you have to go to where you belong. To New York."