Ever since my parents broke up five years ago, I spent every summer in Miami where my mother lives, and I never needed to get myself a summer job. Now that I'm old enough, I finally realize that I want to spend my summers here with my friends. When I told my mother about it, I also realize that she doesn't care. Based on the lack of persuading that she seems to have forgotten to do, it is clear I only lived with her because the court said so.
I look over to the clock on my bedside table and let out a sigh when it says three in the morning. At this point, I don't see why I need to waste more time trying to sleep. Maybe I should go on a walk to calm my nerves—I always get anxious at times like this.
After putting on a gray hoodie, jean shorts, and a pair of sneakers, I walk over to open my bedroom window. The night air is humid, as it would be in the middle of June in northern California. There's an easy breeze coming from the west, where the sea is.
