As my dad pulls the car in the driveway, I don't really get the "home sweet home" welcome feel that you would expect. I grab my belongings out of the trunk and make my way to my room as Jake and my dad start dinner. I see my mom sitting on her bed, tears rolling down her cheek.

"Mom?"

"Jesse, just go. Seriously."

"Ok, I'll go unpack my things," I say. I get an instant glare from my mom as I make my way to my bedroom.

"No Jesse, I mean, go. Get out of this house. Now." Before I can even turn back to look at her, she slams the door shut. Where exactly does she expect me to go? I can smell my dad's infamous bratwursts grilling outside, so I'm definitely not leaving my house as of right now. Jake and I begin to set the table, but only for 3 since my mom has decided to be left alone. My brother Jake is only 12, but he understands everything that's been going on with me these last few years. Now, I know I'm not the best role model, but I'm trying to be. I really am. I sure as hell do not want my 12-year-old brother to go down the same path that I chose when I was his age. He's a star athlete and a really smart kid, so I need to do everything I possibly can to make sure he stays that way. When I was 12-years-old, I was skipping class and making deals with D'Mario and his crew behind the Speedy's gas station.

"Food's ready!" my dad shouts.

"I'll get the ketchup! Jesse, do you want coke or sprite to drink?" Jake asks.

"I'll stick with water, thanks bud." As mad I am at my mom, I can't help but to savor this moment with my dad and brother.

"So, Jesse, feels good to be home?" my dad asks.

"Uh, yeah, for sure," I sigh in disbelief.

"Mom will come around, don't worry," Jake says.

"Jesse, listen, you can't blame your mother for being upset. She just wants what's best for you and this family, you know she loves you very-"

"Loves me?! Are you kidding?" I shout to my dad across the table.

"She kicked me out and can't stand the site of me. To me, that's not love," I say.

"Son, she's not kicking you out. She's just upset as of right now. And besides, school starts next week so you'll be out of her hair for most of the day. I called Bob Ordenbirk and he said he can set you up with a job at Skippy's. All you gotta do is flip burgers and salt some fries," my dad explained.

"Wait, you're making me go back to school?" The last place I want to go to is that awful 'prison.' All the teachers have it out for me and the kids suck. Albequere Prison is equivalent to Watterson High School, I swear.

"Yes Jesse, you're going back to school whether you like it or not. Principal Edwards doesn't oppose to the idea, so the decision is final," my dad says.

Could this day get any worse?