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slammed his head down on the countertop. He howled in pain, but I didn’t release him. I shoved him backward and he flew through an open stall door, slumping over the toilet and then scrambled to his feet. He charged me and I grabbed the door and swung it closed so that it hit him right in the face.
    “Get him!” Brent yelled from behind the door.
    They all took an unsure step toward me and I let out a growl. It was deep and rumbled through my chest. All three of Brent’s “friends” rushed from the bathroom. I turned toward the sink and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
    I was wearing Sam’s “look.”
    I smiled.
    Brent came racing out of the bathroom stall. I stepped aside and he ran right into a headlock. I dragged him across the room, stuck his head in a urinal, held it there and hit flush. Water rushed over his head as he made gurgling sounds, spitting at the water. When I released him, he slumped to the floor, looking at me with shock in his eyes.
    I leaned down so my face was mere inches from his. “If you ever even look at me again, what happened here today will only be the beginning.”
    He nodded.
    I reached into his front pocket and yanked out a twenty-dollar bill. I shoved it in my pocket on my way out the door. There was a crowd in the hall and they all stared at me when I came out. Suddenly, I was shocked at what I had done. I had never acted like that before.
    I couldn’t deny that it had felt good.
    That thought scared me more than anything.
    I turned away from the stares and whispers and ran.
    ***
    When I finally walked through the front door that night, the sun was setting and I was starving, tired, and more confused than ever. I didn’t make it past the living room because that’s where both my parents sat. Dad was wearing a disappointed frown with sparks of anger in his eyes and Mom… well, her eyes were swollen from crying and there was a tissue in her hand.
    Sorrow filled me when I looked at her. To lose one son and now another… I knew that after Sam left, I was the only thing that kept her going. Maybe she would fight for me. Maybe she would stand between me and Dad, and maybe together we could find a way to make this hellhound go away.
    Dad cleared his throat. “Where the hell have you been?”
    I shrugged. “Around.” Actually, I was at the arcade across town spending Brent’s twenty bucks, but I didn’t think that would go over very well.
    “The school called,” he said, his eyes narrowing.
    “Why didn’t you tell us that you were being bullied at school?” Mom asked.
    I felt like someone slapped me. But really, why should I be surprised? “Like you didn’t know,” I said, looking at her. “Like you didn’t see the bruises I came home with, or feed me on the days I was starved because someone else ate my lunch.”
    She seemed to wilt beneath my words. “You always had an explanation,” Mom said.
    I snorted.
    “Don’t take that tone with your mother,” Dad snapped.
    My eyes shot to him, then back to her. “You’re right. I always had an excuse. Because coming home and admitting that I was getting beat up at school was unacceptable. Just like bringing home anything lower than a ‘B+.’”
    “We expect you to be successful,” my dad said.
    My shoulders slumped. “No, you expect me to be better than him. To make up for what you lost.”
    Mom started crying and stood to give me a hug. “We don’t want you to be anything other than what you are,” she said between her tears.
    “Yeah? Well I am a lot more like Sam than you both hoped for.”
    Mom gasped and stumbled back, whether it was because I said the forbidden name or because she figured out what I was trying to say.
    Dad let out a roar and jumped up from the couch. “No son of mine,” he began, but I cut him off.
    “Actually, two sons of yours.”
    That vein in his head was popping out again. Both my parents stared at me with horror drawn across their faces. “When?” Dad asked, his voice