The Arioch family automobile rolled quietly down the street toward the looming tower that was Brave High. The car was only a compact-size hybrid- research grants didn't grow on trees -and so the family of three was quite tightly packed in. This of course left Luca no room with which to avoid the incessant fussing of his mother, nor the stony gaze of his father occasionally glancing back at him in the rear view mirror.

Turning around to face him for what was probably the millionth time that car ride, Luca's mother handed him a small cooler that was probably used originally for transporting organs. "Luca, dear, here's your lunch. You've got protein paste, vitamin capsules, glucose-rich crackers and a juice box. I put myocyte-enhancers in the juice box; a growing boy needs plenty of myocytes!"

Luca did his best to keep a cringe from forming on his face as he looked through the barely-edible contents of his improvised lunch box. "Thanks, mom."

"I shouldn't have let you wear that big sweater, it doesn't fit you at all! You would look so smart and handsome in a nice suit. Business casual at least!"

Looking down at the heavy, red hoodie that he was wearing, Luca responded only by shrugging. The loose, thick fabric disguised the unsightly bulges and strange lights that his implants made on his body. Of course, they ran up the back of his neck as well, but that was why he wore his hair long and loose over it.

His mother must have caught onto the same line of thought as him, as she was now fussing over his hair. She licked her fingers and tried to smooth down a cowlick at the top of his head, "Oh, Luca, you didn't even brush your hair! People will think you were raised by luddites!" Luca squirmed uncomfortably under her forceful mothering, and looked to his father for assistance. He wasn't looking back at that time, and stayed silent as ever.

His mother's overbearing nurturing continued for the rest of the car ride, and they eventually pulled up near the school entrance. Many other children around Luca's age were piling out of cars, busses or arriving by bike or foot, and Luca was eager to join them. As he scrambled out of his parents' car, they were close behind him, and his mother was once again smothering him as she hugged him tightly

"Oh, Luca, sweetheart, will you be alright? You don't have to go if you don't want to, you can stay with us for as long as you want. We'll get you an Sc.D. by the time you're twenty; you'll have nothing to worry about!" His mother babbled as she squeezed him, obviously trying to soothe her own nerves over the matter. Luca began to struggle, and his father cleared his throat loudly and abruptly. Realizing that she was making a scene, his mother released him as she wiped at the tears that were starting to form in her eyes.

As Luca turned to leave, he felt a large, strong hand on his shoulder. Father. Before Luca could turn around, he heard his rumbling voice. "You'll be fine, son." With that, the pressure of the hand disappeared, and Luca walked onward.