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Chapter 18

Elliot was bluffing. I knew that for a fact.

"Don't worry," Michael said to me. He sat back in his seat. "He's just bluffing."

I nodded, thanking Michael. I looked at the packet in front of me. It had "Lucas Hemmings" written in bold, black ink, and I was confused. I didn't even pay. Why'd I get a packet?

I heard Michael squeal next to me, and I gave him a confused look.

"We're going to Camp Whittle!" Michael said with another squeal. I only chuckled at his childishness.

"And what's up with Camp Whittle?" I asked.

"What's up with Camp Whittle?" Michael said to me. "What's up with Camp Whittle?! The only thing up with Camp Whittle is that I've gone there every summer ever since I was seven, not to mention that it's the best camp ever! This is so exciting!"

I opened my packet, and the first thing I saw was a checklist. I skipped the checklist and flipped to a page that directed us to choose who to bunk with. You were only allowed to put for people on the list. I immediately thought of putting Michael and Ashton. They were the closest thing I had to friends, not to mention that I was extremely antisocial and had no one else that I considered close enough to bunk with.

Ashton ran into the class and started ranting about how fun Camp Whittle was going to be. I just sat in my seat and wondered how the hell I got a packet.

✘✘✘

I sat alone on the dinner table, eating a bowl of Kellogg's cereal. I gave it about an hour before Andrew and Liz came home from their jobs. Ben and Jack stayed for the weekend, but they left this morning. They said something about work and their families. I could really care less.

I suppose it was a bit relieving to know that Ben and Jack were on my side. I hoped they could at least help me with my problems with Liz and Andrew. However, I was still afraid to call Ben and Jack my brothers. They could easily betray me. They could easily go back to treating me like they had before. If I trust them now, it would only be worse for me. It was best that I knew that they were on my side, yet I didn't trust them. It would be like they were temporary allies of mine.

I hadn't even started on my homework. Well, I suppose I had. Miss Malone allowed us to use our phones in class for some strange reason (Mrs. Smith was a different case, because homeroom was much different than class). She had assigned a vocabulary worksheet for homework tonight. But, with my iPhone in my pocket and the Dictionary app installed on it, I did my homework in class. I'm such a rebel, I know. My math homework, however, remained untouched.

Once I finished my dinner I went on the couch and I started to watch Sherlock on Netflix. I hadn't finished the rest of season three yet. I was on the very last episode, and I was excited to watch it. I couldn't watch it in the middle of the night and sob over it anymore. I was trapped inside Liz and Andrew's bedroom. I longed for the day that I would be able to move back into my bedroom. I was afraid that would only happen if I moved out of the house entirely. Andrew told me not long ago that the second I turned eighteen, he would kick me out of the house. He was very supportive.

"Did you miss me?"

So many things happened at once. Scenes were changing in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it, the show was over. I had finished the finale.

"STEVEN MOFFAT, YOU FUCKER!" I screamed at the television. I threw a couch pillow at the television, and I felt emotionally unstable. "YOU CAN'T JUST END A SERIES LIKE THAT! I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL FUCKING JANUARY FOR THE NEXT EPISODE, YOU LITTLE SHIT."