THIRTEEN

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As soon as we left the Harns', Chance's dad called my dad and complained about me being overly upset and overly excitable. Like I was a fucking puppy.

Knowing that there was no chance of being able to dissuade me from my self-imposed task, my parents simply grounded me for a week. School, and then straight home every night. No phone and no laptop. Dad would walk the Count and I would do my homework like the good boy I am.

It only adds to my inexplicable anger; I didn't do a single thing wrong. If anything, Martin Harn should be the one who's grounded. He's the one giving up on Chance so easily.

I'm not mad at my parents. It's not their fault 'Mr Harn' decided to have a go about me. Grounding me was probably the best way to alleviate his dissatisfaction with my 'unnecessary' behaviour and actions.

What bullshit.

The thing that probably sucks most about being grounded is not being able to properly talk to Max. Sure, there's school. But I can't exactly pull him to the side of a busy corridor and have a personal conversation with him.

Lilia's excuse for not making it was simple and completely justified. It was probably a good thing she couldn't make it anyways; I didn't need another bystander witnessing Martin Harn almost yelling at me for no reason whatsoever.

Max was quiet about it on the way back to mine; I was going to invite him in, but I scarcely stepped through the front gate before Mum yelled for me to come in. That was a sign that Max would not be welcome at the Brewer residence that Saturday night.

But, if it was up to me, he'd be welcome to my house (and, consequently, my room), every night.

But, if it was up to me, he'd be welcome to my house (and, consequently, my room), every night

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I'm now four days into my seven-day grounding. I've made it to Wednesday night without losing my mind. All this fucking nonsense is making me feel like a little kid again.

What's worse is the fact Max now seems to be avoiding me in school. He's switched from having my back 24/7 to barely nodding hello in classes.

He could be doing this to keep his emotions in check.

But that begs a thousand more questions; emotions towards who? Emotions about what? What sort of emotions? Why can't I help him? Etc, etc. On and on.

We didn't even go skateboarding together this afternoon. Mum made me stay in school for extra study, and I saw him leave right at the start of lunch. Without a backwards glance.

A thud at my window forces me to jolt, spilling a little orange juice onto a physics textbook.

Frowning, I ignore it — probably just some stupid bird. I wipe the orange juice stain away, but it doesn't disappear.

It's almost impressive how many times pigeons can fly into windows and still not realise or adapt to know that just because it's invisible, doesn't mean it's not there. I'm not a fan of biology, but I'm pretty sure that that's one of the things separating humans and animals — emotions and being able to sense non-physical things.

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