I was allowed to leave the hospital after the police had finished questioning me. I had a stupid-looking bandage tied around my head where it’d been sliced open, and I’d gotten some stitches, I don’t remember how many.

My mom was looking worse than I was. She’d insisted on driving, even when I’d volunteered to.

I guess after her son received a concussion, she had a reason to feel a little overprotective.

She was pale, and looked like she was about to puke. “Harvey, we need to talk about this,” she said, putting one arm against the window to lean her head against.

Her fist punched into her cheek, her hair pushed up with her knuckles.. this was the sign that she was stressed.

“Okay, what is it?”

“You didn’t really start that fight, did you?”

“No. I didn’t.”

She sighed. “I believe you. But this is going to get worse. They’re not going to let you off the hook. You have to behave yourself for a while, be a good kid.”

“I am a good kid.” I laughed. “But why are you saying this?”