“Jacob are you okay?” I asked him quietly. He didn’t answer; the policeman pulled him away from me. “This is unacceptable! I can’t believe I keep seeing you in situations!” the policeman yelled. Jacob freed himself from the man’s grasp and hissed, “It wasn’t my fault. It was that guy, Owen. That guy is scum, he sets me up. I’m serious.” The officier shook his head and retorted, “Jake, I’m giving you one last chance because this is getting out of hand. Maybe we should just call your parents again.” The crowd began to shrink and Jacob screamed, “My parents? You want to call me parents! I don’t need them I’m frickin’ 18!” The policeman sighed, “Well you better start acting like it.” He turned and strolled away. I glazed at Jacob as he sat down. I joined him on the ground and asked again, “Are you okay?” He surprised me by yelling, “No I’m not frickin’ okay!” I was taken aback, but I tried not to let my expression give away the pain from him yelling. “I’m sorry.” He whispered while pulling me into his lap.