this is the second time. the second time of the year where he got into trouble—the second time of the year where it resulted to an expulsion.

percy didn't do anything wrong. he insists he didn't. it was just another normal school trip to the aquarium that went downhill because the next thing he knew, he tried to fight back against his classmates who were picking on him, accidentally pushing them into the glass encasing, and it just—it just bursted. the glass had shattered, water spilled everywhere, and it was a whole big thing where the staff was scrambling around, his classmate looked so aghast and so afraid and somehow, percy was blamed. he's always the one to be blamed.

he hates disappointing his parent. he hates knowing that he's done nothing but disappoint them from his poor grades, his troublesome record, his expulsions, the money she's wasted just to keep him in school, hopping from one place to another. he doesn't even look at them as they drive them back to their apartment. his brows are furrowed and anger is bubbling at the pit of his stomach. anger at himself, at the school, at his parent for wasting all this time and effort for him, at his parent who he knows loves him more than anything, at his parent who drives in silence and he knows will forgive him anyway, at his parent who he knows is hiding things from him, and—and... at himself. always at himself.

he doesn't utter a word. he lets the breeze brush his dark hair, window of the car rolled down. it's a heavy silence. no music, no anything, just cars driving with them.