“Indeed so. And think about it. My own father barely even knows me at all!” Casimir exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “And the worst part is, he isn’t staying for my birthday. Mr. Brown told me this a few days after my dad came home from his business trip. Then again, there have been few times when my father has stayed for my birthday. He sure hasn’t in a while. I don’t know why I got my hopes up. I just thought things would be different this time,” Casimir said glumly and soberly, his voice low. “Oh, Cas,” I whispered. “It freaking pisses me off so much…” he trailed off, gritting his teeth. Though he was often formal and proper when he spoke, occasionally a few vulgar words would come out of his moulth when he got angry. I put a hand on his shoulder. “Casimir, don’t talk that way. Somehow, things will be okay. You have to have faith,” I said to him. “Easy for you to say. You’ve got a father who actually loves you,” he mumbled.