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“Aren’t you excited, sweetheart?” I asked him.
He looked up at me with eyes that seemed older than 13.
But his voice sounded hollow, like he was reading lines someone else had written.
***
Over the following week, my son changed. He stopped talking during dinner.
Stopped laughing at his dad’s terrible jokes. He’d come home from school and go straight to his room without a word.
And every time someone mentioned the college fund, he went pale.
One night, I found him sitting on his bed in the dark, knees pulled to his chest.
“Johnny?” I sat beside him. “What’s wrong, baby?”
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