To me it didn't even seem necessary for me to have shown up here. All the stupid school had to do was switch my files back over to Brixton's and we would have this whole thing settled. Nothing else needed to be done. That would fix everything. Or at least in my eyes it would, to the headmaster of Wilson's Academy for Boys there was a whole other area evolved.

I sat in his office just waiting for him to return with a document from his secretary, or I assumed that's what he needed. The man hadn't even entered the room a first time yet.

It's not like the office was a bad place to be. The entire place was covered in Wilson's signature colors: black, white, and red. Though the chair wasn't all that great, it was one of those that you would think would be in a questioning room at a police station. Just uncomfortable enough to make you want to get out whatever it was they wanted to know as fast as possible. Or at least that's how I felt right now. Like I wanted to get out what needed to be said and just get out of there in one piece, and preferably after being told this was all just a huge mistake.

"Charlie Williams?" A porky man asked as I turned and watched him close the door behind him. He was wearing a black suit with a red tie, as if this was showing a bit of school spirit three weeks before school was scheduled to start. Oh yeah, that sure made him a great –

"Headmaster Thomas?" I asked politely, remembering some of the many lessons my mother had tied to pound into my head since I was a very young girl. She'd started training me for these sorts of things at the young age of six.

Yes, you read correctly. I was being taught to not slurp my soup and to always walk with poise when I was SIX YEARS OLD.

"Yes, I'm sorry you have to be here over something like this, and I'm afraid I have some troubling news," he said as he went around to behind his desk, folded his arms, and stared at me like I was the most interesting thing in the room.

Though I would have to say that the stuffed falcon, the school mascot, in the corner was certainly more entertaining.

"What kind of troubling news?" I asked even though I knew what the next words out of his mouth would be. He didn't have to tell me that I was going to have to attend Wilson's, an all BOYS school, this year.

"Well, I'm afraid we have a rule here that says that a student may not switch schools after being accepted into Wilson's, at least not for the year, I tried my best to get you out at semester but the board wouldn't hear of it. This means that I'm afraid you will have to remain a student here until June at which time we may transfer your files back to Brixton's," Headmaster Thomas said slowly and in a voice that sounded faker than Paris Hilton.

"And you're sure there's nothing you can do about it?" I asked getting desperate.

I couldn't attend an all boys' school.



That was something I hadn't even had to deal with since I was in elementary school, before I transferred into a private all girls' school. I wasn't sure I was ready to be shoved back into a life full of having to look good and being around the opposite gender just yet, but something told me I didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

"There is nothing, Miss Williams. I've tried everything, but there is just no way around the rule. You'll have to attend the school here." He grinned. "I'm sure you'll find that Wilson's is a wonderful school, and I look forward to seeing you in classes on September 3rd."

This signaled the end of our meeting and I stood up to leave, nodding at the headmaster as I went from my chair to the door. As soon as I was on the other side of the large oak contraption, my goody-goody face slipped off like a small child on ice. There was no reason for me to be all proper anymore. No reason whatsoever. I knew my mother would have disproved, and for some reason that just made it that much more fun.

I had been brought up to act a certain way, which I did around those in a higher position than myself (for example a headmaster or headmistress), and I suppose the fact that I did that much was a joy to my mother. Around those who were "normal", I was just the same. Though I was blessed, though in my own opinion it was the exact opposite of that, I felt as though I was cursed.

Cursed to live a life of luxury and country clubs and cocktail parties.

My mother and father drank it all in, dragging my brother along with them, but they couldn't get me involved in that sort of thing. Oh no, I was nowhere near being interested in eating teacakes and discussing the latest catastrophe in Cadmill county.

That was probably the reason I disliked my family so much, or rather disliked my father. My mother and brother I absolutely loathed. For one, my mother was never satisfied with me. Even being at the top of my class wasn't enough for her, of course not. I had to be a debutante, an heir to her high position, AND top of my class for her to be happy with where I was in society.

Even then it was a very slim chance I would be completely acceptable.

And as for my brother, well, that boy wasn't happy unless he was picking on me in one way or another. Most girls in my grade, or even those surrounding mine, would tell me how attractive and kind and wonderful my brother was, but for some reason I just couldn't see that side of him. Maybe it was because I was the only one he showed the opposite side to. Yeah, that could've been it.

From this rant I'm sure you've gathered that I'm not your average rich girl. I'm not stuck up or snobby or even spoiled really. I'm just regular. Really all I want is to get through life and be a regular kid, that's it. Though, even though my personality wasn't that of your stereotypical rich kid, my looks sure were. I had the blonde hair that took no effort whatsoever to keep it stick straight and hanging in the right position, and I had the body that would never gain an ounce no matter how much I decided I wanted to eat. But I figured this wasn't anything important, plenty of regular people were skinny and had blonde hair, am I right?



I arrived home about fifteen minutes later in my cute little red Volkswagen Beetle. My parents had bought it for me last year on my sixteenth birthday, it had been a bribe to get me to prepare to be "accepted into society."

A bribe which failed miserably I might add.

After climbing out of the driver's side door, I tossed the keys to the boy who was standing there in the exact right spot, waiting to catch them.

Simon, Simon Wailer.

He was our car boy, he had a different title but that was the easier one to remember, or I thought it was anyway. He'd been working for my family since the previous year, mostly because that was the year he could actually drive legally and get our cars back into the garage.

"You know, Simon, I could just take the car all the way back into the garage. It's only an extra two minutes drive," I said as I always did. It was almost routine these days to tell him that I didn't mind doing his job for him.

The brunette boy laughed at me, jingling my keys just enough for them to flip up into his hand.

It always shocked me when Simon would tell me that he wasn't seeing anyone. It didn't seem possible. The boy was gorgeous. Maybe he was just shyer around girls at Jefferson, the town's public school.

"And have your mother give me another little chat about how I'm not doing my duties? No thank you Miss Charlie," he replied in his fake British accent. He told me once that it made him feel more like a valet parker when he did it that way, I hadn't had the heart to tell him otherwise.

"Well all right, but the offer still stands whenever you don't feel like going the extra two minutes," I replied grinning.

"So I hear you're going to Wilson's this semester," Simon said as he leaned back against my car.

I rose my eyebrow at him, questioning his sources.

Simon just laughed.

"I heard your mother discussing it on her phone the other night when she came round with her car," he explained.

"Ah, well, yes unfortunately I get the displeasure of being the first and only girl to attend Wilson's," I replied a bit agitated. "And now I have to give the bad news to my mother about how I couldn't get out of it in my meeting with the headmaster today."

"Good luck with that Charlie," Simon said as he walked around and sat in the driver's seat of my car.

I watched as his face went from a smile to discomfort as he realized the seat was much too close to the steering wheel for his legs. It was a commonly known fact that I was only five foot four while Simon himself was five foot seven.

Quite the difference there if you ask me.

There were two flights of stairs heading up the hill to what was called the Williams Manor.

I could have sworn my family thought we were modern era royalty or something with the way we, or rather they insisted on living. Our house alone was four stories, each was visible from the outside, and had a minimum of twenty rooms. The first floor was surrounded by a veranda where the fence was painted an off-white, which according to my mother went brilliantly with the light blue facing of the actual house, I personally believed that it made it look like something out of an old movie. Though I'd kept my mouth shut about that subject in particular. In front of the house there was a wide spread garden, going up the hill and around the entirety of the veranda itself. Behind it was yet another garden, complete with fountain.

Sighing, I headed up the stairs that might as well have been made of marble for all the thought that went into them. It took me three minutes to get up the thirty or so stairs these days, unlike when we'd first arrived and it took my entire family at least fifteen to get from the circular driveway to the front door. Though by now we were practically professional stair climbers, or I was anyway. No one really ventured past the second floor in the house.

The front door opened before me, as if I'd been expected at this exact moment.

It was most likely that Maria, the housekeeper that had opened the door, had heard me talking to Simon before and had just prepared herself.

Now, Maria wasn't just any housekeeper. No, she was like a second mother to me. When I was younger, and so was she, my parents had been too busy fussing over Chase, my brother, to even pay any attention to me and do those motherly-fatherly things they were supposed to be doing. So I was Maria's responsibility since I was about seven months old, just around the time I no longer had to breast feed from my mother. I'm sure that was the only reason she held onto me that long.

"Afternoon Maria," I said as I kicked off my shoes onto the carpet beside the door. Maria cleared her throat and I picked them back up and set them in the already neatly placed line that I'm sure Maria herself had set up prior to my arrival this afternoon.

"Good afternoon Miss Charlie," she replied closing the door behind me and then coming up and giving me a brief hug. "How did the meeting go with the headmaster?"

Sometimes it amazed me that I could even understand Maria. She was a Mexican on both sides of her family, so Spanish was her native tongue. This being how it was, she had one of the strongest accents I'd ever heard. Most of the time I had to ask her to repeat things multiple times before I was sure I'd caught the main gist of what she had been trying to say to me.

"Not so good. It seems I'll be attending the boys' school for the year," I replied sighing once more, it was definitely one of my signature sounds.

"Well, you'll just have to make due with what you're given. M'lady is up in the common room, maybe you should go tell her before someone else has a chance to."

Maria pushed me across the hardwood floor (a floor I had fought long and hard to acquire in this household) and stopped only when we'd reached the stairs that led up to the second floor, the floor that my mother seemed to spend most of her time.

"I'm sure I was perfectly capable of getting to the stairs myself, Maria," I said climbing up onto the first one.

"I know, Miss Charlie, but these floors are just so fun." And with that she slid right out of the room…just kidding, but she did walk out with a smile on her face that made me think that she may have done that when everyone was in other parts of the house.

The common room was where my mother could always be found. She had everything in there possible so that she rarely had to go to the other parts of the house.

I think most of her time out of that room was spent in the hallway between her room and the common room, but that was just a really good guess on my part.

In the room there was a phone, television (not that my mother ever watched it), and even a small half bath. Of course there was a couch and coffee table and armchair, along with many portraits and flowers.

It reminded me of that one room in the movie Titanic more than anything else. You know, the one where Rose and Jack are when he paints the naked portrait of her.

Briefly, I knocked on the already open door. Just long enough for my mother to look up and nod her head, allowing me to enter her room. After getting the signal and entering, walking in a ridiculous impression of my mother's walk, I sat in the armchair opposite my mother who was sitting on the couch, staring at the phone as if somehow she could use her magical powers and make it ring.

"'Ello mum," I said cheerfully.

"Charlie, hello dear, how are you?" My mother asked me, even though I knew she didn't really care about how I was feeling this afternoon.

With my mother it was quite simple, say what you need to and get out.

"Not so good. The Headmaster said that I am to attend Wilson's until the year is up. No way out of it," I said quickly.

It was now that I noticed a tray of cookies sitting out on the table before us, my mother also noticed that I had noticed them as well. I grabbed one and stuffed it into my mouth before her hands could whip it away and before her lips could start to go on and on about the nutritional facts of the cookie.

That was something she did most often. Telling you many pointless little things about a food you wanted to eat, and she knew that you really shouldn't eat it because "you could gain weight". Most of the time she went on about the food so long that you'd forgotten what it was you'd wanted to eat in the first place.

"Well, I'm sure you'll make the best of it. Now, I have a phone date with Vivian so scoot," she said as her gaze went back to the phone, again trying to magically make it ring.

My rear end stayed planted in the chair until my mother glared up at me, using her stare to tell me that she'd meant –

"Oh, you meant now. Ha. Right."

I just got up and left the room, closing the door slowly behind me just as the phone began to ring. For some reason, I just loved giving my parental unit crap. It was just one more thing to add to their long list of complaints about me. No I'd never actually seen this list but I was sure my mother was keeping one somewhere. It had been more than once that Vivian, my mother's best friend, would give me a dirty look because of all the nasty little things she'd been told I'd done.

There was one more set of stairs I had to climb before I would hit the floor that my room resided on, well there was more than one room (some more important than others) but mine was the only one in use all the time.

No one had really come up here since February, no one but the cleaning people anyway. Once in a blue moon I'd actually see my father truck up the stairs to get to his storage room with all the excess books.

Now, when I got to my door I noticed it was open causing me to become suspicious. I never left the door open. I'd learned long ago that if I did that my mother took it as a chance to go inside and go through my things. She'd even read my diary once, that had gotten me into more trouble than ever before…mostly because every other page said how much I hated it in that house and wished I could get away. My mother had even threatened me with going to my Aunt Clara's house, which was ten times worse than the life I was in right now.

Even though the door was open, I'd never thought I would see what I actually did.

Everything, and I mean everything, was thrown about the floor. Most ripped up and other things just sort of tossed in places I knew they hadn't been when I'd left for the Headmaster's office that morning. My clothes were out of my OPEN closet and torn up all over the floor. The books it had taken me years to collect were shredded to pieces and thrown like confetti. Those pictures that I'd never be able to replace, yep those too were ripped and spread about the place.

I turned around and began to run down the stairs and onto the second floor. It was a good thing that no one was in my way because I wouldn't have been able to stop or maneuver around them to avoid a collision and we would probably have a very injured girl and helper. There was only one destination in my mind. I knew exactly who had done that to my room.

The one place I could actually call my own.

"CHASE," I yelled as I stood in his doorway.

He wasn't alone in his room. Surrounding him were four other boys, three I'd already learned to hate (John, Matthew, and Steven) and one that was new to the group. Anyone who decided to associate themselves with my brother was automatically on my hate list, usually because even if they were nice people he corrupted them and in the end they were almost like a Chase clone.

"Yes sister dearest?" Chase asked me in a very fake innocent voice, his eyes giving away the fact that he had done that to my sanctuary.

"What the fuck did you do to my room?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Charlie."

The three boys I'd known before faces began to puff up with held back laughter, one even began to chuckle because he hadn't been able to hold it in anymore. I just rolled my eyes.

"Right, of course you don't. Hey you," I said directing my speech towards the new kid, "do you know what happened to my room?"

He nodded.

"Well are you going to tell me or just sit there nodding?"

"I can," he said, his voice was calm and as soft as silk as the words came cascading out of his mouth.

It was almost enough to calm me down, but only almost.

"He was getting back at you for…oh what was it…ah yes, the drinking dilemma."

My gaze fell back on my brother who was sitting there grinning on the floor as if he had completed some great accomplishment by pissing me off once more. He had to do something that would get me into a fit once a week or I think he would have like had a seizure or something.

"Oh for the love of carbs, Chase. That was over two MONTHS ago. Don't you think telling dear mother and father about me sneaking in after curfew ten times was enough?"

"Nope," he said short and to the point, a stupid grin still on his face.

I was only seconds away from walking right up to my brother and beating that smile off of his face, and I would have too if someone hadn't been holding me back by my arms.

Simon was of course the only one who would care enough (and was strong enough) to come find me and stop me from doing something he and I both knew I would regret.

"What are you doing here?" I muttered over my shoulder towards him.

"I was in the kitchen getting a glass of water when I heard the yelling, thought you might need some help."

My eyes continued to look at him and after seeing his pleading look, I loosened up and allowed him to lead me out of the room.

"What? You need Mr. Says to calm you down these days? Awh, how sweet. Isn't that cute boys?" Chase asked from behind me.

Apparently he had gotten his mo-jo back; it seemed he had lost it when I was a foot away from him with a look of fury in my eyes.

Simon hadn't been prepared for me to whip my arms out of his grasp and swing my fist around fast and hard, colliding with the left side of my brother's face.

I hadn't even thought twice about what I was going to do, I knew he had to be punched and it had to be done now. I was just glad it had been me to do it…again. And I probably would have kept going if Simon hadn't rushed up behind me and pulled me back again, this time against my protests.

"I hate you Chase! I fucking hate you!"

There was a tap on my shoulder and I looked up into the blue eyes of a very tall, very angry man.

My father.

Him looking down on me like this was honestly one of the scariest experiences in my life. At least with my mother it was only an inch, with him it was a little less than a foot of human towering over me.

Simon let go of my wrists as I hung my head and stared at the floor.

"Mr. Wailer, I think that maybe you should get back to your post at the front of the house," my father said not taking his gaze away from me, that much I could feel.

I heard departing footsteps and knew it was Simon heading back down the stairs to stand around doing nothing until my brother's friends decided to leave.

"Charlie, come with me."

There was nothing I could do but nod.

I followed my father down the hallway in a daze, if someone had asked me a question I wouldn't have heard them, if there was someone walking right at me I wouldn't have seen them. That's how horrible this had gotten. There was nothing about my father that didn't frighten me in one way or another…well, maybe except for his smile.

Though even that scared me sometimes just because it would take me by surprise.

"We have discussed this matter before," her father began as he went behind his desk within the office and began to give his speech.

This room was to my father what the common room was to my mother.

Their living place.

The one spot that they never felt they had to leave.

And since my father's work consumed his life this wasn't exactly all that horrible in any way, shape, or form.

The walls here were covered in books, mostly legal ones with different court history backgrounds. Others were chalked full of small details I was sure that no one in their right mind would ever think they absolutely needed to know. Near the back of the room was the before mentioned desk and chair, both reminded me of those very same things I had seen in the headmaster's office earlier that day.

"The fighting and the language, it has to stop," my father continued as we both lowered ourselves into two chairs facing one another.

"Did you see what he did to my room?"

My temper was beginning to get the better of me. I could feel the pressure raising up and the realization that I was about to –



"I bet you don't even care do you? You and mom both won't care."

My rant paused.

"You know what, I bet even if you did care you wouldn't believe that poor little innocent Chase did it."

A sigh escaped my mouth, a motion I knew my father would see as either A. a weakness or B. the beginning of a battle. Today, it was neither.

"Just let me out of here. Punish me and let me out."

My father was rubbing his temple as these words escaped his lips, "Two weeks."

After only giving him a nod I quickly walked the distance from my chair to the door, I must've been out of there within seconds.

Ten maximum.

This "discussion", as my father so wonderfully called it, caused me to be a bit zoned out so I hadn't even noticed the skinny mass of black clothing before me before I crashed into it. Without even looking up, I continued on my way to my room. Muttering a sorry on the way.

The door crashed closed behind me, I didn't remember grabbing the doorknob but from the intensity of the slam I knew that I in fact had. My eyes cleared up a bit as they again hit the damage within the room. Clothes and memories ruined.

I couldn't bring myself to begin to clean up, instead brushing what I could off my bed and collapsing on top of it. Pulling the torn pillow to my face and burying my features within it, not letting anything escape my eyes, or the tear ducts within. My head shook from side to side.

A knock.

My eyes flew to the white door as I heard the noise again.

After a moment it swung open, revealing to me that boy from before that had told me about this whole thing with Chase and the room and the drinking.

You get the point right?

I sat up on the mattress and cocked my head to the side, looking at him like a confused puppy dog. My legs touched the ground and I stood up, facing him and trying to compose myself. Even though I wasn't crying it was obvious I had been on the verge of it.

"What do you want?" I asked agitated.

"To say that I'm sorry," he responded as he turned and pulled the door closed slowly and softly behind him.

He stood there in front of the colorless door and didn't look the least bit uncomfortable as my eyes gazed up and down his figure. The hair atop his head was a natural looking black color, it didn't seem as though he'd followed the silly trend of dying your hair this plain ol' color, that was long enough to brush the top of his polo collar and his eyes were grayish in color. His height had to be at least two inches taller than Simon, which I suppose would have made him around five foot nine. Something around there. In short, the dude was tall. My eyes fell to his torso and legs showing me he was skinny, extremely skinny.

Almost abnormal like.

"Sorry for what?" I blurted out.

He smirked.

"Well, as you probably know I didn't do anything here to your room but I do feel a tad bit responsible. And it doesn't seem as though your brother will be punished at all," the boy replied calmly.

"Why would he be?"

My response was irritated. Now more because of my brother than because of this male creature.

"He's the parent's favorite. Chase could push someone off the edge of a cliff and my parents could turn it all around and make it look like he had been tripped or something."

I paused and my face tinted to a light pink.

"But, uhm, I accept your apology all the same. At least now I know all my brother's friends aren't idiots."

The boy laughed, it sounded soft and unused.

"That would be because I'm not one of his friends, love. In fact, I despise your brother and everything to do with him." He paused. "Unfortunately my friend John doesn't share that opinion."

His hair fell into his eyes after this statement and he had to flick his head back, causing the hair to mix in temporarily with the rest of the black mass. It was obviously an attempt to keep it from falling again.

"I hate my hair for doing that," he said angrily.

"Nah, I think it's cute," I replied openly causing a smile from him and for my face's hue to go even darker. My ends of my lips went up into a grin. "I'm Charlie by the way."

"Trent," he replied shortly. "Trent Glens."

The conversation stalled for a moment before he said, "So, I'm assuming you attend Brixton's?"

"Well, I did."

Trent looked confused and motioned with his right hand for me to continue with my statement.

"For some odd reason the schools got my application mixed up and mistook mine for my brother's," I paused and took a deep breath, "therefore accepting mine in. And apparently there's this rule that states –" My blush deepened once more. "But I'm sure you don't care about that part."

The only reaction I got from this boy was a grin and a simple shake of the head.

Like this whole situation amused him for some reason. Though I couldn't see why, I didn't see anything really funny about it.

"So you'll be attending your brother's school? That should be enjoyable."

"Oh of course. It'll be a blast I'm sure," I replied sounding more sarcastic than I'd really meant to in the first place. Sometimes I just couldn't control it. "But change of subject, what grade are you going into Trent?"

"Senior year, last year in that hell hole referred to as Wilson's and then I'm out," he said grinning. "I'm going to assume that you're a junior."

"You assume correctly," I replied dryly.

School is going to be worse than I'd imagined, I thought. I'd already known I was going to get picked on as a girl because it was a bunch of boys that all knew who my brother was. It really was only to be expected from that gender in general.

"Do you really think that?" Trent asked half amused, half shocked.

And apparently I think out loud.

"Well, of course."

"Charlie, Charlie, Charlie," he began through his soft chuckles, "you do realize that you've got it all backwards. You won't be made fun of for being a girl, most likely you'll become the most popular kid in school."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm really not," Trent said as he paused. "Most of the time we have to wait until after school to even get a glimpse of a girl, and now we'll have one right in our classes? That will seem like a miracle to some at the school."

The color of my face went another six shades darker, now looking like a reddish-magenta. I looked up into the eyes of Trent and suddenly felt like my stomach was going to fly out of my skin. He and I both looked away at the same time, which was how I knew he'd gotten a feeling similar to the one I had felt.

"Well, I'd better go. Wouldn't want John to leave without me."


"I'll see you at school then," Trent said looking back from the door to see me nod.

After he'd left the room I began to salvage what I could from around the room. Picking up anything that looked like it was still able to be worn, and let me tell you there wasn't much. It seemed my brother and his friends had had a field day with my room earlier that day. Leaving nothing unscathed.

"You know he has a girlfriend right?" I heard a voice say from behind me.

I glanced back slightly to see Chase leaning against my doorframe and grinned at me from his position there.

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"You do know to whom I am referring correct?"

"I'm assuming you mean Trent."

"Wow, you're smarter than I thought."

I lifted my chin and grinned at the wall in front of me.

"Funny, I can't say the same about you."

Behind me, I could hear footsteps creaking along the floor, my eyes flew back again and I saw Chase getting closer to me.

Part of me couldn't believe that he was actually coming into my room after what he'd done, especially now with no cronies to protect him, but then the other part of me could actually believe that he was stupid enough to do it at the same time.

"He's going out with Sophia Burns. You do know who that is right?"

My heart felt like it was squeezing together and then letting go. I had to really try not to wince at the small amount of pain it was giving me.

"There isn't anyone in the county who doesn't know who she is, Chase."

"I see, well I just thought you should know."

"Oh my god!"

Chase and I both spun around to see our mother, who had actually ventured up the extra floor, standing in the doorway of my room, a look of shock on her face as she entered the room and spun in circles to see the damage.

"What did you do to your room, Charlie?"

The smug expression from my face slipped off and went onto my brother's.

"What did I do?" I asked angrily and my mother nodded. "Don't you mean what happened?" I walked towards her trying to hold back the anger I was feeling. "HE did it! Him and his stupid friends! I have a witness."

I said all this while pointing straight at my brother. His fake apology face already in place.

"Your brother did all this damage?" My mother said disbelieving everything I had just said. "That just doesn't seem possible. Well, now I guess we'll have to go out and get you new things, but that was probably your hidden motive." She began to leave the room.

"No, mom."

My mother stopped abruptly and turned to look at my very angry features.

"That was not my hidden motive. I didn't even do this to my room! Why would I fuck up my room just to get new stuff when I could just ask for it?"

Suddenly, there was a pain sweeping across my face.

My mother had just slapped me…she hadn't done that in a very long time.

"You're grounded Charlie for–"

"Like I care. Dad already grounded me for punching stupid here in the face," I replied not even rubbing my face. I wouldn't let my mom know that getting slapped had gotten to me. "So do whatever you want, ground me some more. It won't affect me. It never does so I'm not sure why you two insist on doing it."

"Chase, go to your room." He did as he was told and my mom looked right into my eyes. "You can add another month onto that grounding, Charlie. No friends, no going out at all. Period. No discussion."