Neil heaves a huge sigh and puts his head down on the table for a moment, covering the back of his neck. Nobody else in the class had had issues, though, was the problem. Not as far as he knew. There was no one from that particular class--though from others, sure--that were going to be in his summer course, and certainly none of them were there because the teacher didn't like who they were seeing.

Goodnight was right. Billy was right. But Neil had never been able to make his own choices, for so long, and to be given that freedom, that power, had felt like a precious thing. Even if he'd screwed it up.

"Can we just get food?" he asked softly, head still down.