Why is he as old at he is and in his freshman year? Why is he always so quiet, never saying a word to anyone? And why is he always so confined wherever he goes? It’s like he can’t stand people. Like he despises them.
I wonder if he’d approve of my name for him?

“Anna? Hand me the card.” my mother says loudly.
“What? Oh, here.” She placed the balloons on my desk and the card next to them.
“Hun, I’m gonna go get some food. Would you two like anything?” my father asked us, poking his balding into the doorway.
“I’ll have some jello.” I said. My mother smiled at him.
“Alrighty then. Be right back.” He left and my mother turned to me.
“You know what? I think I’ll go too. I’ve decided I am a little hungry. Will you be alright here for a little while?”
“I’ll be fine mom.” She smiled at me and left after dad. He’s not my real father actually. His name is John and my mother married him 4 months before we moved. All his family is up here and some of my mom’s is too. But I know why we really moved here.