“Probably.” It’s funny to think that coming out did give me the attention I so desperately craved from Mom. The good and the bad. I felt I’d moved past that weird time in my life, where I couldn’t stand to be around my family, when I didn’t even feel safe in my own body, let alone my bedroom. Sneaking out, getting into clubs I shouldn’t have been in because I knew the right people. I was fourteen and definitely looked it; no one was serving me alcohol; I never did any drugs. But, still, people noticed, and filmed videos of me, posting them. You really wouldn’t think videos of the son of a hotel mogul would be that scandalous, but tabloids and YouTube paparazzi channels used to love me.

“That’s why I came to Steerfield. Or, I guess, that’s why I was sent to Steerfield. My mom, she …” I take a breath. “She thought that it’d straighten me out or whatever. Not in the sexuality sense, though it’d be pretty funny if she sent me to an all-boys school to try and make me cishet.”

Wyatt and I both laugh uncomfortably.

“The stolen car … that was all a misunderstanding. I was trying to get a friend home. She was drunk and didn’t want to leave her car, so I drove her.”

“But you don’t have a license.”

“Sure don’t! The cops pulled me over, didn’t like the lip that I gave them. And since my friend was passed out in the front seat, it was easy to misinterpret the situation. I had to do some community service to work that one off.”

“Jesus, you’re a little lawbreaker.” Wyatt grins, laughing.

“I just remember feeling so alone in that house. Especially after my surgery, when Mom went back to work. She tried to be there for me, but there were days after the recovery at home started that I woke up all alone, and I was so scared.” I remember being so lonely, so scared, my chest and body hurting so much. “All I wanted was my mom. It just sucked, you know? And I know it wasn’t fair to take it out on her, I know that she tried her best, but …”

“Sometimes that’s not enough.”

I don’t say anything to him.

“But you said she tried her best, though?”

“Any attention was good attention. Then, once I recovered, I went back to being ignored by my family. I tried to make it so I was impossible to ignore—and then they shipped me across the country just so they wouldn’t have to deal with me. How fucked up is that?”