Chapter 15

I was scared when we moved. I came home from my first day at the new school, and I didn't want to go back. I was sure I would never make it. It was intense. Way more intense than my last school, and I was starting midsemester. I was certain I would never catch up. I wanted to go back to my old school, where I at least knew who would steal my lunch money. My mom didn't want to hear that. This whole move was for me and my sister. I heard the whispers in the kitchen when my dad got home and then he came to my room to talk about it.

"I don't fit in, Dad. Nothing's the same. I might as well be on another planet. It's completely different from Bellwood High."

"Different isn't necessarily bad, Locke. Just different. And in this case, I know it's a good thing. Trust me. You're just a little overwhelmed today."

I jumped on his words, emphasizing that I would never fit in, because I was certain he didn't hear me the first time I said it. I hoped that would end the conversation. It didn't.

"It takes time," he said firmly. "Think of it as a journey, Locke. A long one. Not a sprint. You'll find your way." He pulled my desk chair closer to the bed where I was lying and sat down. I knew I was in for a long one. "Sure there are going to be changes, even detours and setbacks--probably lots of them. But you have to remember what's important. The goal."

He leaned forward and wove his fingers together, looking at his hands. I looked at them too. He worked in construction. His hands showed the years of his trade, the scars, and the cracks. He was good at his work, but it was backbreaking and unreliable. I knew he wanted something different for me. He raised his eyes to mine. "You can make a difference in this world, Locke, but you have to be patient and determined and not let a few fears derail you. Focus on the goal and not on where the road is bumpy. It's rough for everyone at some point, but some people keep going and others give up. Don't be one of those who give up."

Is that what my brother did? Give up on his own dreams and theirs? I nodded, still wanting to give up but hoping my nod would make him leave. He squeezed my shoulder, but I could tell he was reading my mind. He knew me too well. He stood to leave and then paused at my bedroom door.

"Picture yourself five years from now, son. Where do you want to be? Remember that. Every day. That's how you'll get there. I believe in you, Locke. Your mother and I both believe in you. You can do this."

Picture yourself five years from now....

I look at the iScroll in my palm, the landscape I don't recognize, and the Bot who is driving me through it. I had tried to picture a lot of things that night, but I never pictured this.