I shrug, "I don't know. If anything, he'll just leave it alone," I study him, looking down at our hands, "He can't boss me around forever. I'm almost nineteen and he can deal with it."
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
I smile back at him and trace my fingers around his palm, sighing as I remember what my father said. I glance up at him, "My...My dad is going to send me to school. Sometime this week. Even though I'll only be there for a year."
My social problem will /not/ help me with that. At all.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
For according to the trollish philosopher Plateau, "if you wants to understan' an enemy, you gotta walk a mile in his shoes. Den, if he's still your enemy, at least you're a mile away and he's got no shoes." — A Blink of the Screen by Terry Pratchett