Chapter 13. Better

Mark would not speak to me on the drive home, and I was too terrified to inquire as to what had transpired with him. It was the only time we exchanged words, and it was about what I wanted from McDonald's. We got our food in the car and didn't even bother going inside the restaurant.

We were on our way home when I noticed that his hands were gripping the steering wheel with such force that the whites of his knuckles were showing.

As we arrived at our house, the automobiles belonging to both John and my dad were already parked in the driveway. I am too exhausted to engage in conversation with anyone. In spite of the fact that my birthday and graduation are both tomorrow, all I want to do is go to sleep.

Mark assists me in moving in both my belongings and some of his.

What's up, and how did it go? John asks. None one of us raised our hands or spoke up. "Give it to me already!" they yelled. Again, neither one of us raised our voices.

"Let's give them some