“You’re not listening to me, Jon.” Principal Dillon crossed his arms and stood before Jon like he meant business. “Your foster parents have legal custody over you while you’re in their care and still under the age of eighteen. Do you see those policemen by the door? Well, if you try to leave, they’re gonna lock you up in juvie to make sure you don’t go anyplace. Now, wouldn’t you rather spend Thanksgiving with your family than with a bunch of strangers in jail. Jail’s a rough place, Jon.”
“I have much work to do. I must work hard and fast.”
“Does that mean you’re still going to New York?”
“Of course.” Jon turned and headed for the door. The cops started toward him, and the teachers moved his way. Suddenly, Maria and Brandon burst into the front entrance.
Maria ran to Jon and pleaded with him. “Jon, please don’t go. For me, okay? Don’t you remember what we had?”
“Yeah, Jon,” added Brandon. “You can’t leave now, man. I’m gonna buy another camcorder, okay? We’re gonna make that movie, the one I wrote a script for, just like we planned. Let me show you the script, it’s in the car.”
Jon paused ten feet from the door. The cops stopped, the teachers stopped, and Brandon stopped. Maria rushed over and hugged him. She kissed him on the lips, but he was unresponsive.
“You don’t love me anymore, do you?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Actually, Maria, I have never loved you.”
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