Finally, Dad speaks. “We’re really upset with you for running off.”

Mama says, “It’s not safe out there. You wandering around in the dark—I was very worried.”

I close my eyes and count to five so I don’t mess this up.

But they aren’t done.

“And what you did to Blake is unacceptable,” Dad says. “I know you’ve had some rough times, and I know you probably learned how to fight on the street, but in this house you are with family and we don’t act that way.”

Ugh. I can’t believe this. “Blake punched me first,” I say as quietly as I can.

“Don’t worry about Blake. We’ve taken care of him. That’s not your job,” Mama says.

I can feel it coming. This is such bullshit. And I know I’ve lost my chance at getting out of school. There’s no way Mama will talk Dad into anything now.

“I’m sorry,” I say. Seething inside.

Mama stays on point. “If it happens again, Ethan, well . . . I’m not sure what we’re going to do, but violence in our home is not acceptable, and whatever punishment we decide, it’ll be harsh. So just don’t. Clear?”

“Yes.”

“Now, about school tomorrow,” Dad says.

My heart sinks.

“You’re going.”

Fuck. I lean forward in my chair, put my elbows on my knees. Bury my face in my hands so they don’t see my reaction. So they don’t see me shaking. So they don’t see the stupid, hot tears.

In the morning, I get up from my makeshift bed in the basement, put on my clothes, eat breakfast, and get on the bus, ignoring the looks. And ignoring Blake. It’s easy—he ignores me, too. I sit with Cami, but for the life of me, I can’t focus on our conversation. My chest is so tight, it makes my breath raspy. I just stare at the seatback in front of me.

Once we’re at school, I get off the bus.

And I start walking. Away.

I can’t do it. I can’t go in there, face all those people. Be laughed at, humiliated. Sent to all those freshman classes when I should be a junior. Look J-Dog in the eye, or see Cami with him, or get one single pity glance or one inkling of a mention of pissing my pants—I swear I’ll punch anybody who does that.

And, I’ve been told, that is unacceptable.

So that leaves me with no choice.

I quit.

CHAPTER 29

I spend the day wandering, and by afternoon, I’m cold and starving. I stare at the mom-and-pop diner a couple of blocks from school, smelling the grease, and my mouth waters. But I don’t have any money. I walk farther and stop when I see a Burger King bag on the side of the road. It’s not moving in the breeze. I think about seeing what’s in it. I do. But I fucking can’t do that again. I turn down a residential street and keep walking. Kick the crap out of a trash can instead. The lid rolls out into the street and a car has to go around it. I walk to the end of the block, and then jog back to get it. Put it back on the can.

Wandering around all day, I’ve got to keep moving or I freeze. I walk a bunch of miles, all in squares so I don’t get lost. Nobody notices, nobody stops me or asks what I’m doing. I’m just invisible.

When my phone starts vibrating in my pocket, I ignore it along with the fear in my gut, and I just head back to school to catch the bus home. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I really don’t.

I hop on the bus before the last bell rings, before everybody else boards, and sit by the window watching the floodgates open. Cami and J-Dog come walking out together, holding hands, and I want to kill him. I shrink down in my seat and pull my hat down so he doesn’t see me. Cami’s on her cell phone, distracted, and she glances up at me, squinting. Then she gives J-Dog a quick peck on the cheek and waves good-bye. He doesn’t look very satisfied with that, but he turns and walks back into the school. Basketball practice, probably.

Cami hops up the bus steps and sees me, and then she talks on the phone a second more and hangs up. She flops in the seat and says to me, really loud, “Will you please start answering your stupid phone? Your mother called my mother and my mother called me to see if I knew where you were. Somebody marked you down as an unexcused absence from school today and the office called home to find out where you were. Your parents are freaked.”

“Shit,” I say. They know. Of course they know. The school would call them. I should have known that. It’s been a while since I’ve had to cut school, and Ellen never really cared.

“What?” Cami’s voice is sharp. She folds a piece of gum into her mouth and chews, hard.

“Did you tell your mother I was on the bus?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” I say, thinking fast. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Why?”

“I cut school,” I say. “I’m not going back. I’m quitting.”

“Oh, great.” Cami sinks back in the seat. “Ethan, why?”

“I’m sixteen, I can quit if I want.”

“Are you sure about that? I bet you have to have your parents’ permission.”

I stare at her. “How would you know?” But I’m scared she’s right.

She just sighs and pulls out her iPod and I feel like a loser. But I’m still not going back there.

We pick up the middle school kids and Blake has his phone out. He gives me a huge smirk when he says, “Bye, Dad,” and I know he knows I’m busted. I scrunch down in the seat and just try to breathe all the way home. Try to pretend I’m cool about all of this.