Once, when I was six years old, I stole something.

It was just after we’d moved to Eugene and my parents were suddenly spending all of their time and energy on setting up for Emma and I’s future. Or at least, that’s how they put it.

I was going to Kindergarten during the day but I had no friends, and many of the teachers didn’t like me because I had a hard time getting used to English and refused to listen to them.

One teacher though, my favorite teacher, would always let me stay inside during recess and play with the little glass figurines on his desk. He didn’t really talk to me, and I liked it. I also liked, the bell.

One of the objects on his desk was a little golden bell. It made a sparkly sounding noise, and I remember thinking how much I wished it was in my room, so I could play with it whenever I wanted.

Sometimes he’d be getting ready for a lesson and would turn away from me when I was at his desk. That afternoon, I have no idea what possessed me, I snuck the bell into my shoe and took it home.

I was playing with it in my room that same night when my mom came in and asked what I was doing. I told her I found it. Obviously, she knew I hadn’t.

It was one of those times when you’re a kid, even though you don’t feel like you are. And you make a mistake that you don’t realise at the time. And of course, you have to apologize. But because you’re a kid, your mistake feels like the worst possible crime and apologizing feels like the end of the world.

I gave the bell back to my teacher and said I was sorry. Maybe the worst part wasn’t that my favorite teacher knew I’d stolen something from him, but that my parents were ashamed of me.

All of that being said, stealing a tiny bell isn’t quite the same thing as cheating on a high school test. Whoever said that age equals wisdom hasn’t met me.

“Walk me through this,” he says. “Walk me through what you were thinking. What you did.”

I’m sitting across from my parents at the dining room table, thinking about how the next 24 hours are going to pass just as quickly as the last 24 and no, it is not the end of the world. Perhaps age equals perspective?

Mom has her computer open in front of her. They were reading the email from Principle Hamilton when I got home.

“I was thinking about how much I needed to pass the test,” I tell them. “I was thinking about how much I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

My mother gives me a withering look.

“So this is our fault?” My dad says incredulously.

I shake my head. “No, it’s entirely mine.”

Dad looks away from me and closes his eyes. Mom just stays silent.

“I only wanted you to be proud of me, and at the time I could only see one way to do that. I understand how unfair it was, but I was too scared to think right.”

“You understand that you’re going to have to take the test again?” Mom says suddenly, an eerie calmness in her voice.

“Yes,” I swallow.

Dad looks at me again.

“Theodore, frankly I’m shocked at you. I thought we raised you to have better morals than this.”

That one hurt.

“It wasn’t you, it was only me. It was just that I didn’t believe in myself. I’m sorry.”

I decide to stop talking. It clearly isn’t helping.

Dad looks at my mom for a few seconds…

What are they thinking?

“When I called you the other morning, where were you?” Dad asks.

My heart races. Shit.

“Um, a friend’s house.”

“Which friend?” Mom says sharply.

Shit shit shit shit-

“Ravina.”

“Is it serious with her?” Mom says.

“Yeah, I love her.”

Why pretend at this point? I mean really.

At that moment, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. My parents don’t notice.

Dad gives me a look and I sit up a little.

“She had nothing to do with the cheating did she?”

I almost want to smile.

“No, definitely not.”

Careful, Theo…

Mom blinks, then looks at my dad once more. I can tell there’s something they’re waiting to say.

“The reason I called you that day Theodore,” Dad sighs.

“We’re going home.” Mom says quickly.

I shake my head. “Home?”

For a moment I don’t understand, but then I get it. And when I do, the looks they’ve been sharing start to make sense.

“You mean, home?”

For the first time today, mom smiles. It fades soon though.

“Yes.”

I stare at them. “Why, why now?”

Dad almost glares at me.

“To be completely honest, staying here doesn’t seem to be worth it anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“The company isn’t thriving with us so far away,” he says. “Emma’s nearly finished with college, and frankly, you’re not a sickly little boy anymore. I’m trying to hold onto hope that you’ll start to show a bit more maturity once we’re back in Korea.”

“Wait, you’re serious? We’re really leaving?”

They both nod.

“But Ravina-”

“Theo, if there was something here that you cared about so much, why didn’t you make more of an effort to succeed here?” Mom asks me.

“Trust me, if I’d found her sooner I would have.”

She pauses. “Then I’m very sorry you’ll have to say goodbye.”

She sounds like she actually is, which makes me start to panic again.

Leave Ravina? Fuck that, I mean… I couldn’t. But, we’re going home?

“When are we going?” I ask. “Home.”

I almost can’t get the words out. Is it wrong of me to be happy? Yes, probably.

“Next month. It’s all arranged,” Dad says. “Now as for you, you’ll have plenty of time to retake this test. And pass it. I am not leaving this country without having you at least graduate.”

“Your father and I haven’t had any time to process, or think about what this means.” Mom sighs.

Shit, I really messed up.

“But I think it’s not unfair to say that you’re grounded for the foreseeable future.”

“Fair,” I say. “But permission to keep my phone? I haven’t been able to tell Ravina what’s happened and I don’t want her to worry.”

Mom shakes her head again, “Fine. No leaving the house. You’re going to study for the test, right?”

I hold my breath and nod. Yes, I am. I just have to figure out a way to do that first.

“Alright. You can leave, Theo.” My dad says.

I don’t miss his tone when he says my name.

I mean, if my goal was to make them proud of me, it’s pretty clear that I’ve succeeded in doing the exact opposite.

I make it to my room and finally see the text Ravina sent a few minutes ago.

Yeah… we really needed to talk. But, I couldn’t tell her everything over the phone.

The newly awakened part of my brain that said this is a bad idea was struggling to get my attention. But apparently old habits die hard, so before long I was opening my balcony window and texting Ravina to meet me.

Hopefully we could finally tell each other everything.