I shouldn't have come back.
Every step through those school doors felt like walking into someone else's life. The hallway buzzed with chatter, laughter, backpacks slamming into lockers, sneakers squeaking across linoleum. But it all sounded distant—like I was underwater.
No books in my hand. No schedule in my pocket. Just me. Hoodie up. Eyes low. Walking through the halls of a world I didn't belong to anymore.
Some kids noticed me. Double-takes. Whispering. "Is that Jason? "Didn't he drop out? "Isn't his mom like… dying or something?"
I ignored it all. Their words bounced off like dull rocks. I wasn't here for them. I was here for one person.
Brian.
I spotted him by the vending machines, arguing with the machine like it had just insulted his mother. He smacked it once, then twice, and just as he was winding up for a third, I cleared my throat.
He turned, confused—and then his face lit up.
"JASON!" he shouted, way too loud.
I winced. "Shhh, bro."
He didn't listen. He threw his arms around me like I'd just come back from war.
"I thought you were dead," he said dramatically. "Like vanished. Gone. Off the grid."
"I kind of did," I mumbled. "I've been... dealing with stuff."
He pulled back, giving me that look only real friends can give. The kind that says cut the crap.
"You okay?" he asked, quieter now.
I hesitated. Then shook my head.
"I'm dropping out. Officially. Came to talk to my teacher. Say goodbye."
Brian's smile faded, but he didn't say anything right away. He just nodded, slow. Then he bumped his shoulder into mine.
"You're doing what you got to do," he said.
"I didn't want to," I said. My throat tightened. "It's just... Mom's sick. And we're behind on everything. Rent. Bills. Medicine. I got a job. I'm trying."
His expression softened. "You don't have to explain, man. I get it."
I looked at him—really looked. His hair was a little longer than before. His eyes were still bright, like nothing could break him. We were always opposites. He was the loud one, the funny one. I was the ghost tagging along in the background.
"You were the only one who talked to me," I said. "Like, ever."
He smirked. "Yeah, well, someone had to. You looked like you were about to fade out of existence half the time."
I laughed, for real this time.
"Stay in touch, alright?" I said. "Don't become a stranger."
He nodded, but his eyes were red. "Only if you promise not to disappear forever."
"I'll be around," I said. "Just... not here."
We bumped fists. He pulled me in for another hug, quieter this time. Then he walked away, back into the sea of noise and life and lockers slamming.
I stood there a second longer, then turned and made my way to room 203.My homeroom.
Ms. Ellery was at her desk, flipping through some tests. She didn't look up at first when I knocked.
"Door's open," she said.
I stepped in. She glanced up—and froze.
"Jason?"
I nodded. "Can we talk?"
She gestured to the chair in front of her desk. I sat down, suddenly feeling twelve again. All bones and nerves.
"I didn't expect to see you," she said gently. "We've been worried."
I looked down at my hands. "I... I wanted to come sooner. I just didn't know how to explain."
"You don't have to," she said. But I shook my head.
"No, I want to. You deserve that."
I took a breath. "My mom has cancer. Early stage, but it's bad if we don't treat it soon. My dad's gone. It's just us. She's sick, and I can't afford to sit in class anymore while the rent stacks up and she's in bed coughing her lungs out."
Her eyes shimmered, but she didn't interrupt.
"I got a job," I continued. "Uber Eats. On my bike. It's not much, but it's something. I'll do whatever I have to do. I just wanted to tell you in person... I'm not dropping out because I gave up. I just—"I swallowed. "I just have to be the man now."
Ms. Ellery didn't speak for a moment. Then she leaned forward, folding her hands.
"Jason, do you know how many students disappear without a word? They just stop coming. No one hears from them. No explanation. But you—you came here to say goodbye. That takes courage most adults don't have."
I looked away. My face was hot.
"I'll keep your seat warm," she said, voice cracking slightly. "In case you ever want to come back."
"Thanks," I whispered.
We sat in silence for a bit. Then I stood up.
I left the classroom feeling... lighter. Not happier, not fixed. But like I'd closed a door properly. One chapter done.
Outside the building, I looked up at the sky.
Gray. Cloudy. But no rain.
Maybe that was a sign.
Tomorrow, I'd start riding. Delivering. Hustling. Saving every dollar like it was a heartbeat.
Because Mom's clock was ticking. And I was done wasting time.