March break felt like it was taking forever to arrive. I had booked my tickets and packed a suitcase for it, cutting my wardrobe for the few school days by half. But I was deeply unhappy. I could barely retain the anger and disappointment in my mother building up within me.

I didn't stop hanging out with Jacob, though I probably should have. I was very tuned out while I was there. Cam visited once, which had startled me. I remember trying to make small talk with her and failing. We had both been so uncomfortable that we could do nothing except sit in awkward silence.

At school, I tried to stay as isolated as possible. I didn't want my feelings mingling with anyone else's. I stopped eating in the cafeteria and took to listening to loud music between classes. It didn't help get rid of everyone's feelings, but it let me focus on my own emotions better.

And before I knew it, a mere couple of days after I said that I wasn't moping, I began to mope, hard. And before in knew it, it felt like Charlie was constantly on my case with the "You don't do anything" and "You need to stop moping." He was legitimately concerned about me. But, with how angry I was, most of the time, I couldn't bring myself to respond as I knew I'd react with aggression.

A few days before I was scheduled to leave to visit phoenix, I popped like a soda can that had been shaken for two weeks straight and then opened. What broke this damn was Charlie asking what was wrong with me. What was wrong with me? I had no idea that this question would break me. It made sense. I had pretty much been asking myself what was wrong with me since I was seven, and I had been trying to answer it with "nothing, I'm fine."

However, when Charlie cornered me in my room and expressed his concern in an exasperated manner, that question was the last thing he should have asked. I snapped.

"Excuse me," I hissed incredulously, "You didn't seriously just ask me that, did you?"

Charlie felt immediate regret. "It's just that…"

"Do you really want to know the answer to that question?" I yelled. "Everything is wrong with me!"

Charlie blinked.

"My gender is wrong, my mind is wrong, my feelings are wrong, heck, even my shoulder is wrong."

I covered my face.

"Everything is going wrong too. My friends don't actually like me. They were only hanging out with me because they felt sorry for me. Hanging out with Jacob makes me feel like shit. I'm mad at mom, and worst of all, I can't talk to you about any of it because you're so busy."

Charlie remained silent while I gulped down some angry breaths. I uncovered my eyes and glared at my dad.

"Let's not forget the crazed maniac who almost killed me last year is still out there doing God knows what!"

That last part stung him. He looked down and understood that in a way, he had let me down. He felt lost and overwhelmed. He wanted me to be happy, and he didn't know how to achieve that.

It infuriated me that I couldn't control my powers at all anymore. My mind bubble pooled out when it wanted to regardless of what I did to try to contain it. It was out now, absorbing Charlie's pain.

I backed away from him and leaned against the wall.

We stayed there for a while.

"I'm sorry," Charlie eventually said. "I just want you to be happy."

"I know!" I exclaimed, "and that sucks too because I feel like I'm failing you by not being able to fix me!"

Charlie stood in front of me. He felt a flurry of emotions, and they paralyzed him with a paradox of choices. He wanted to comfort me, but he just didn't know how. I could feel his mind flitting through options.

"Why are you mad at Mom?" He asked after a long pause.

I felt my face go hot. I didn't want to get into that with him.

"She wasn't accepting at first." I said slowly, "She said some really mean things."

Charlie nodded. "She could be pretty stubborn."

"What did you see in her?" I asked. Charlie shrugged and looked down.

"We were young," He started, "She was lively and creative. I liked that about her. She was spontaneous."

In the silence, I was taken aback by how quickly the situation had spontaneously cooled down. We had both deflated in defeat. There was no solution to this problem. I felt waves of nostalgia coming from Charlie as he really hadn't gotten over Renée.

"Why'd you break up?"

Charlie bit his lip, "She didn't like it here, and I didn't want to move."

I sat on my bed. In a few days, I was going to come face to face with my mom: the woman who helped me medically transition but also the woman who had emotionally neglected me.

I sighed.

"Are you going to stay in Phoenix?" Charlie asked quietly. He was afraid that he had pushed me too far.

"No, Dad," I said, "It's still just a visit. I don't think I have the energy to live with mom."

Charlie nodded and turned to leave.

"I'm sorry, Jack," He said and left.

I flopped down on my bed and heaved a heavy sigh. Despite how unpleasant this had been, I realized that it had been slightly cathartic. I hadn't realized how much energy had been pent up inside me. It was good that I got rid of some of it before I visited mom.

Suddenly, I was alert again. My mind was picking up on someone else nearby. I shot up into the seated position and looked around.

Someone was watching me.

A part of me hoped it was Edward, perched outside my window like a human-sized bird. I looked to the window and…

Well, it wasn't Edward. It was a falcon. It looked small and dainty. And it was surprised that I was looking at it. I was intrigued by it. I had never seen a falcon this close up. I waved at it and smiled. It cocked its head at me, and I froze.

It understood that gesture.

I slowly approached the window and opened it. The falcon hesitated.

"Hey," I said. The falcon bounced on its branch nervously. I waved at it again. This time it flew off.

"What am I doing?" I asked myself. I closed my window and went to bed.