The sun crept up over the so-called balcony of Grant Ravensdale's room on the second floor of the house, where he lived with his father. It began to reveal the shapes and angles of the side of the house and the sliding glass door. It made its way through the door and fell on the floor of his bedroom. It reached like a hand onto the bed where Grant slept and seemed to pull at the covers near his feet. For half a second, Grant felt it and pulled back into what was left of the shadow.

But the light was relentless. It would lay claim to the bedroom and reveal the inhabitant within. Like a sharp razor it cut a line diagonally across Grant's face. He flinched and then opened his eyes and closed them again, quickly. He raised his arm and covered them. Some of the light still found a way around his arm and moved in again. This time, Grant reached up to grab his pillow and to pull it out from under his head. Then he covered his head and laid his arm across the pillow.

But the light had already won. It woke him from his sleep and it revealed the wound across the upper arm lying on the pillow.

"Grant?" Paul Ravensdale said from the hallway as he knocked on the door.

Grant did not move.

Paul cracked the door open. "Grant? You're gonna be late for classes."

"Not going," Grant answered him.

Paul opened the door wider. "What's wrong? Are you sick?"

"Yeah," Grant mumbled from somewhere under the pillow. "Need to rest."

"Grant, what's that on your arm?" Paul asked when he noticed the wound.

Grant looked out from under the pillow and looked at it. He touched it with his other hand. It wasn't bleeding, anyway. "Oh, that's nothing," he said. "I was trying to skateboard like I used to but I'm not that good at it anymore."

"Grant, I know you are ready to leave for China today, but you have to at least finish this semester."

"Not going," he said as he covered his head with the pillow again.

"What?" his father asked. "Why?"

"Changed my mind. I need to finish school."

Paul was shocked. "Um... well, okay then. Whatever you want to do, I guess. It doesn't make sense to me."

"It's what I want," he told his dad.

"Okay then. Get some rest I suppose. If you feel better later you can come in for an adjustment" Paul said.

"Okay dad. Thanks."