“Franky, tell Roundman what you told your momma, boy,” Bull commands while a shit-eating grin spreads across his face.

I should have known he wouldn’t let it go. My uncle is named Bull appropriately. Not only is he a big man—as in stocky—but he is also stubborn and won’t back down for anything.

Right now, he is staring me down much like a bull would a matador in a fight. There’s a challenge in his tone, one that says he is going to win. He is the one waving the red cape at me, rather than the other way around. Taunting, testing and teasing, all with a knowing smile.

Gathering my resolve and courage, I begin to share with Roundman and Danza my thoughts. “Business is good, and I’m learning more every day. I’m more productive and gain more life skills here in the shop than I do at school, too. Mom and I were talking the other day, and if I drop out of school, I could work here more or get a job with Rocky down at his garage,” I state, confident in my reasoning.

Danza pipes up before Roundman can. “Have you lost your damn mind, kid?”

Maybe I have. At seventeen, I am ready to break free. The stuff in those history books won’t help me face the hard knocks of life. I know basic math. I can read and write. What more do I really need? I don’t see the importance behind a high school diploma. It’s just a piece of paper.

“Danza, I want to work on cars. There ain’t nothin’ in that school gonna teach me about that,” I reply, making eye contact with the biker.

“You’re gonna finish school. I get that you think it’s bullshit, but you finish what you start. You finish school, get your certification, then you can work here as a full time mechanic. If you drop out of school, we’re done with you.” Danza is clearly not joking.

“Done with me? Really, Danza? I bust my ass and have from day fuckin’ one. Has the last year not shown I finish what I start?” The anger in me boils into a rage.

I move to make a step toward Danza when suddenly Roundman is in my face, standing over me. He’s around six-feet-tall to my current height of five-feet-eight. He is also full of muscles from the years of hard work.

He glares down on me. “I believe it was your mistakes that brought you to our doorstep. We don’t owe you shit, boy! You don’t want to go to school? Fine, don’t. However, there is no place left for you here if you walk away. You start something, you finish it. One day, a woman will come along, you’ll fall in love, have kids, and shit’s gonna get boring. You gonna walk out on your family?

“At seventeen, you think you have all the answers, but you don’t know shit! Go to school, learn what they teach you, and take your time growing up. You’ve got the rest of your life to work your ass off and be a man. So, do what teenagers do; go to school, date some girls, come to the shop and work, go home, and stay outta trouble.