Even if they were arguing with someone angrily in the hall, if he passed, they would stop and turn then put on their toothpaste ad contrived smiles and walk away. The week passed slowly, with whispered comments in the background. “There he goes,” and “I hope he’s okay.” OF COURSE HE WASN ’T OKAY ! His own mother died on his 17th birthday from making his party. The responsibility for her death, he felt, was on his shoulders. If only he knew what to do. He felt like he’d taken his own mother’s life. What could he do after something like that?