I think about what I have to face at school Monday. Everybody will know. I’m sure there was piss on the floor that had to be cleaned up. God.

Who does that to a person? I turn over onto my side, curl up, and stare at the wall, remembering it, how sick it made me feel. When I squeeze my eyes shut, the silent sobs come, and I have to grip my knees until it stops.

I think about how it was with Ellen. No matter how much she neglected me, she never would have tried to humiliate me.

My parents come in the room and I pretend I’m asleep. I don’t want to see anybody—I can’t. Later I hear that Cami’s there too, missing the end of J-Dog’s game. I hope they lose. Sons of bitches.

The nurse comes in and shoos my parents out. She sits by the bed and asks how I feel.

“I’m okay,” I say. “Headache.”

“On a scale of one to ten, one being barely noticeable and ten being unbearable, how bad is it?”

“Four or five.”

“Okay,” she says. She writes it down. “Now, about the visitors.”

“No more visitors. Just tell them I don’t want to see anybody and they should all go home. I’ll take a cab in the morning.” I have absolutely no money.

She smiles. “I’m pretty sure they aren’t going to leave. There’s a little girl out there. Gracie. She thinks you’re dead. Won’t stop crying.”

“My sister. You told her I’m not dead, right?”

“Of course! But she saw you on the stretcher with your eyes closed, being shoved into an ambulance. And that’s all she knows.”

I think about that. Feel that little bit of panic start in my gut. “Is this a trick to get them in here again?”

“No. You don’t have to do anything. I just thought I’d tell you about the girl.”

I rub my eyes and run my fingers gingerly through my hair.

Stupid little girl.

“All right,” I say. “Just Gracie, nobody else. You bring her in here.”

She comes up to the room walking on tiptoes and stops at the door. The nurse says, “It’s okay. See? There he is. He’s just got a sore head.”

Gracie holds on to the doorframe and sniffs. Her cheeks are all splotchy red from crying. I wave, feeling stupid. Finally I ease up to a sitting position. “Come here, then,” I say.

She shuffles in halfway.

“Come on.”

She sidles up to the bed.

“Hi.”

Her lip quivers. “Hi, Efan.”

“You okay?”

She wrinkles up her nose. “Something’s stinky.”

I sigh. “Okay, that’s enough, girlie. Go back out there and tell Mama and Dad to go home. I’ll call tomorrow when I need a ride.” I buzz the nurse.

“Cami’s here too.”

“Tell them all that I have to go to sleep now.”

The nurse comes in. “Had enough for today, Ethan?” She gives me a look.

“Yeah. Can you just tell them I don’t want to see anybody and they should just go home and get some sleep?” I hope they respect that, after what they did to me.

“Will do. Come on, Gracie.”

Gracie obediently takes the nurse’s hand. “Bye, Efan. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Gracie. Stop crying now.”

“Okay.”

In the dark, I can’t stop thinking about what happened and all the people who betrayed me. And I think maybe there’s no other option.

I’m going to have to run.

CHAPTER 21

They wake me up all night, every hour or two, I think. In the morning I walk over to the window and push the curtain aside. Snow. More and more snow here. So cold. I imagine what it’s like living on the streets around here, and I shiver and turn away.

I guess things aren’t as bad this morning as they felt last night.

In my mind, I come up with a list of demands. My own bedroom in the basement. Some privacy. And I’m not going to school. No way. Not going back there, not going to face them. I’ll homeschool myself or just drop out. I’m sixteen, I can do whatever I want.

When the doc comes in and says I’m good to go, I don’t have a choice. Not one that I’m willing to make, anyway, thanks to the snow. I call home.

“Hello?” Mama sounds worried.

“It’s Ethan . . .”

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she says. “We didn’t know it would be like that. Please let me explain.”

I swallow hard and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Can you just bring me some jeans and pick me up?”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks.” I hang up and stand in my hospital gown, my ass hanging out. My soiled jeans and boxers are in a plastic bag and ready to go. It’s mortifying.

Mama arrives with the jeans, bringing clean boxers, too, and my coat, which I guess I left on the bleachers. I change in the bathroom as Mama signs the final papers, and we’re gone.

In the car, the only sound is the massive whoosh of the heater. I stare out the window, willing Mama with my silence to come up with something that makes me not hate her.

“I got a call yesterday morning,” she says. “The school principal said that a group of basketball players had come up with the idea to just say a little ‘welcome home’ to you at the game. Friends of yours.”

I snort.

“Well, that’s what they told me. Jason Roofer—you know him, obviously. That boy Cami goes with. He’s a nice boy. Very thoughtful. It was Jason’s idea and he approached Al, the radio announcer who always announces our games and interviews Jason now and then. Jason asked Al to say a little something at halftime from the booth to welcome you back. That’s all it was going to be, according to Jason—I promise. It sounded like just a small thing. They invited us to come too, but asked us to keep it a secret. Jason wanted you to be surprised.”