“Are you sure you want to do this?” My dad asked me for the fifteenth time already. I can’t blame him, though. I wasn’t very sure of my decision, but I had to do this. I have had enough of Dicky and Peter. My asshole, older half-brothers, they hate my guts. I don’t even know what I have ever done to them. And yes, we’re half-brothers.

You see, my dad, Harry, had been married before marrying my mom, Lilian. He had my three older brothers from the lady he married before she died. Johnny, my eldest brother and the only nice one of them. He’s 18 and is a very great brother. He loves and cares about me. Then there’s Dicky and Peter, 16-year-old twins. They all look like Dad with jet-black hair and grey eyes.

Finally, there’s me, Carl, 12 years old, and I look more like my mom with her dirty blonde hair and emerald-green eyes. My mom and dad got divorced when I was 5 years old. I was left with my dad and moved here from California to New York. Our neighborhood is just on the outskirts of New York City; it’s far quieter than the city itself. Our house is actually more of a mansion, two stories with a garden, a swimming pool and a basketball yard.

I, however, never liked it. Just because my dad is rich doesn’t mean I like that place. My dad owns a chain of fancy restaurants all over the world and two big hotels in Vegas. He never liked Casinos, nor did he want to be involved in that business. He also owns other hotels all around the country. The people there only care about money. Having friends is difficult, knowing that many people are probably after your money.

Still, it was home. What made me hate this place were my brothers. I am pretty sure if it wasn’t for Johnny continuing to save me, I would be dead by now. Peter was about to throw me off the balcony yesterday, and although it wasn't that high, it could have caused some serious injuries like broken bones or worse.

Lucky for me, Peter ended up with a pair of black eyes and a bleeding nose as Johnny came to rescue me just in time. While I am forever grateful for Johnny, I don’t think I can stay in the same house with both Peter and Dicky. That’s why I made a decision; seeing that I am not planning to get killed anytime soon, I decided to go live with Mom back in California again.

Now, I am sitting in the back of an SUV with my dad, going directly to the airport. I am not sure if Mom will be happy to have me or not. She left me, and to be honest, I missed her. I learned to deal with it eventually. Still, every time I visit her, there’s this awkward atmosphere that I don’t know how to describe.

“Dad, we talked about this. I can’t stay with these two anymore, and I can’t expect Johnny to watch over me all the time,” I replied. Dad let out a sigh. He didn’t want me to move away. I knew that for sure. Me and Dad were very close, probably more than the rest of my brothers.

Unlike me and Johnny, Dicky and Peter don’t want to spend time with dad. Whenever he’s home, they are either away with friends or in their room. With Johnny going to university soon and me going to stay with my mom, I think he would feel lonely.

“I can hire someone to watch over you, or we can get you your own house with a driver and a housekeeper,” Dad suggested. I know he desperately wants me to stay, but I have my own reasons to go live with my mom. It’s not like Dicky and Peter were the only reason for me to move away. There’s another reason that I couldn’t tell anyone about it, and there’s also that I miss my mom.

“You don’t have to do that. Besides, I think it’s only fair for Mom to spend the coming years with me; I will come to visit you. I just can’t stay here.” Seeing that I was determined and wouldn’t change my mind, Dad just dropped the topic. We reached the airport and sat down, waiting for the plane to arrive.

“If you could have waited for just one week, I would have taken you in the jet instead.” A week? I am not sure I could have lasted that long. The more Peter and Dicky try to kill me, the more they get in fights with Johnny and Dad. The more they get in trouble, the more they hate me. In this one week, they will probably kill me.

We talked for a bit until my plane arrived. Dad had to sign a form for me to get on the plane. “I will transfer money to your card and send Lilian child support. If you need anything or if you ever need more money, just give me a call, all right?” he told me as I stood in front of the gate.

I nodded at him, and he smiled while ruffling my hair. Dad is generous when it comes to money; he ensures my bank account never has less than a thousand dollars. No matter what we ask of him, he always gives it to us.

“Make sure to call when Lilian picks you up. Don’t forget I am not leaving for England until I get that call,” Dad said, trying to sound firm, but it just never works. He always fails to sound strict in front of me.

“I will, Dad. Don’t worry,” I assured Dad, who smiled and gave me one last hug before I went through the gate. My ticket was first-class, as Dad would never allow anything less. I took my seat beside the window. As passengers came into the plane, a lady wearing a fancy suit took the seat beside me. She looked to be in her early thirties or something.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she said with a smile, and I replied with a similar smile. Are you alone?” She looked at me with confusion. I am sure she wondered why I was flying alone.

“Yes, ma'am.” I tried to be as polite as possible as her eyes studied me intensely. Her eyes made me uncomfortable, but I couldn’t say anything.

“You look familiar. What’s your name, sweetie?” the lady asked, keeping her gaze fixed on me.

“C-Carl, M-ma'am,” I said, stammering. I gulped as her eyes didn’t leave mine for a second. Honestly, she was scaring me.

Suddenly her eyes got bigger as if she had realized something. “Carl Davis?” She asked, and I nodded in confusion. How did she know my last name? “You’re Lilian's son?”

“You know my mom?” I asked very surprisedly. I didn’t expect to meet someone who knew my mom.

“Yes, honey, I know your mom. Sorry for being rude. You just look almost the same way your mom looks. Anyway, I am Linda. I am a very close friend of your mom,” she said, sticking her hand to me.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand. So that’s the whole story. Honestly, she scared me. It’s not every day that the passenger next to you keeps glaring at you. It’s normal to be scared, right?

“You know Lillian had been talking about you the whole week? She didn’t stop talking about you for a moment; your mom really loves you, you know that?”

Hearing this from one of Mom’s friends really pains me. I know that Mom loves me, but when she left, I was only five and could barely understand things. I thought she abandoned me and was really hurt. I only visited her a couple of weeks every summer, and I always made it clear that I was mad at her for leaving me.

When I was 8, I had a fight with my mom that almost broke her heart. I don’t remember exactly what happened or what I said, but I remember Mom crying and calling Dad to pick me up earlier. After that fight, I didn’t visit her for two years. In these two years, I started to think about it, and that’s when I knew she must have had a reason to leave me with Dad.

She called Dad every day, asking about me. She had not called me directly since the fight, but not a day passed without her calling. I felt evil, guilty, and genuinely bad. What made the feeling worse was when I decided to visit her the year I turned 10.

I was welcomed with a crushing hug from Mom. The whole time I spent with her, I felt like she was trying to make things up for me. I felt more like a jerk. She was trying her best, but things were just awkward. Right now, the reason she left me with Dad doesn’t matter anymore. I am sure she has her own reasons, and I won’t even ask her; I don’t need to know. I will make it up to her no matter what.

Linda started talking to me, telling me about herself. She told me that she’s 33 and runs a modeling agency. My mom owns a clothes store for men and women. Her store is big enough to have more than one branch, and she also owns more than one factory. Both my parents were always ambitious.

Linda hires models to model for clothes that will end up in my mom’s store. It seems she has known Mom for a long time. “You know, you got me confused for a bit. I mean, Lillian talked about her son, but I thought you were a girl when I saw you at first,” Linda admitted, which is something I totally expected. I do look like my mom, after all, and with my hair this long, I can’t blame anyone for mistaking me for a girl.

I was about to talk when the sound of the captain came from the speakers. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is the captain. Our flight will take approximately five hours.”

The captain finished speaking, and the sign to put on our seat belts lit up. After a couple of minutes, we were in the air. After a couple more minutes, a flight attendant came to us. “Good morning, ladies. Can I get you something?”

Linda looked confused, seeing that I had not corrected the flight attendant. I simply didn’t care anymore; besides, it was tiring. “Can I have orange juice, please?” I asked politely.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said with a smile. Then she turned to Linda and asked her if she would like anything.

“Yes, a cup of coffee will do, thank you very much,” Linda said to the flight attendant, who smiled and walked away. Once she was gone, Linda turned to me with a smirk on her face.

“Do I look that much like a girl?” Even with my short hair, everyone would mistake me for a girl. Even if I am wearing my all-boys school uniform, they will completely ignore it and think that I am a girl.

“I will be honest with you, Carl. You’re too pretty to be a boy. As someone who runs a modeling agency, I have seen many pretty girls of all ages, none of them as pretty as you.” Linda’s confident statement made my face turn red. I am kind of on the shy side; standing out is not my thing.

“Great, I am prettier than a female model,” I said with a sigh, which made Linda laugh a bit. I used to always cut my hair to try to look more like a boy, but that never worked, so in the end, I just gave up and let it grow. I never had one of those buzz cuts, and I never liked them anyway; neither did my dad nor my brothers.

“It's not that bad,” Linda tried to comfort me but failed miserably as she started to laugh instead. “Well, you’re Lilian's son. I am not surprised anymore.”

The flight attendant brought orange juice and coffee for Linda. I took out my tablet and started reading Featherless Wings, a novel about a shy boy who can fly but is too shy to show his wings, afraid of people judging him. I just love the author of this novel. While I don’t know her name, I know the meaning behind her work.

Apparently, she has a son who is very smart and talented but very shy. She decided to write a novel because her son was being bullied. This novel is a message to him to spread his wings and not care about people—at least, that’s what she said in an interview. I hope he won’t be like me and will see how much his mom loves him.

•••••••••••••

“Carl, wake up,” Linda said, shaking me awake. Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked around me. “There are those pretty eyes. Now, I want you to put on your seatbelt. We’re about to land.”

I looked around and could see that everyone had their seatbelts on, so I buckled mine. “How many hours have I been sleeping?” I only remember starting to read the novel on my tablet, then nothing else. At least I didn’t need to stay awake for the whole flight.

“I am not sure, but at least three hours. By the way, I put your tablet back in the backpack,” Linda told me. I smiled at her and thanked her.

If my tablet broke, I could just get another one, but then I would have to deal with all the novels I have on my tablet. I would need to download them again, that’s more than 60 novels there.

The landing was smooth, which worried me, seeing that I hadn’t been on a commercial flight for a couple of years now, only using Dad’s private jet to travel. Even coming here will always be with Dad’s private jet; he also comes with me just to say hi to Mom. I wish I knew why they got divorced, but it’s clear that they still love each other. I mean, Dad will take every chance he can to see my mom.

Dragging my suitcase behind me, I walked towards the exit with Linda beside me. As I walked, I spotted Mom, and she also spotted me. She walked towards me at the same time I did and hugged me tightly. “I missed you so much,” Mom said somewhat excitedly. Seeing her excited about me coming makes me happy.

“I really envy you, Lil. You have such a pretty son,” Linda said, making me blush and earning a glare from Mom.

“Don’t tease my son, Linda, " Mom said firmly, squeezing me into yet another crushing hug—not that I mind; I actually like that.

“All right, sorry about that. I hope you two have a nice day,” Linda said, walking away before turning back. I enjoyed talking to you, Carl. I will see you around,” Linda said, kissing my cheek before walking away.

“What was that just now?” I asked, somewhat amused. I like Linda; she’s kind and somewhat funny.

“That’s Linda being Linda, sweetheart,” Mom said before grabbing my suitcase from me and leading us out of the airport. “She’s friendly and likes kids your age the most,” Mom said as we walked out to the parking lot.

I put my suitcase in the car trunk and moved to get in the passenger seat. The moment I entered the car Mom pulled me into another hug. “I have been looking forward to this, you know? I still can’t believe you will be living with me,” Mom admitted excitedly.

“Well, I thought it’s fair for us to spend time together, besides there’s no Peter or Dicky here,” I claimed, telling Mom the incomplete truth. I know I can tell Mom about this problem; I just don’t know how, so until then, I have time to think.

“I know your brothers can be too much to handle,” Mom said, pulling me closer and kissing my forehead. “I am sorry I left you. I am sorry you had to get through this,” Mom said regretfully.

I looked up at her and saw that she was about to cry. “Mom, it’s okay. I am fine, and I am here with you. That’s what matters, right?”

“I love you, Carl,” Mom said, pulling away and starting the car.

“I love you too, Mom,” I said, smiling and buckling my seatbelt.

“Should we go home? Or do you want to have lunch somewhere?” Mom asked. She knows that Dad owns more than three restaurants around here. When we go there, we always eat for free, and Mom is not excluded.

“I would like to go home. I think lunch inside the house would be better. Maybe we can have dinner outside today?” I said. Honestly, I just want to spend some time with Mom alone, not in public. We will have every chance to get out, but for now, I just want to go home and unload my things.

“Home, it is then.” Mom smiled, pulling out of the parking lot and heading home. For some reason, calling it home feels right. I imagined things may be awkward between us, but so far, it’s great.