“Just drop me on the corner right here.”

“Are you sure, man?” DeVante’s voice echoes my feeling. “You could come with us.”

No, I’m not sure that I want to walk these streets tonight … but I’m equally sure that I live here. And accordingly, I have no choice.

“We’re not staying in Underhill,” Robb says. “DeVante has an uncle who lives across town.”

“A better part of town, you mean.”

Robb throws himself back in the seat. Says nothing. Whatever. I can’t help it. Everything Robb says is like needles to me at this point.

He pulls out his phone and starts taking pictures. I can hear the metallic little scissor-click over and over, punctuating our silence like one long ellipse.

DeVante takes the turn and pulls the car over in front of a fire hydrant. Throws the hazards on for good measure.

“Do you know how to get where you’re going next?” I feel bad for leaving him alone with Robb, but what else am I supposed to do?

DeVante taps his phone, where it’s resting in the cup holder. “Gonna program it now.”

“Tomorrow you should leave the car and take the bus back here,” I tell him. I glance in the rearview. Robb’s not the public transit type, but at least I’ve given fair warning.

“Text to meet up,” DeVante says. I close the door.

Robb and I exchange a glance through the rear window. I try not to think about the fact that this is nowhere near the end for us. I still have to live with him for another eighty-six days.

Eighty-five, if you don’t count tonight.

Tonight, when I’m gambling on Vernesha’s kindness. I can’t go home. If my parents knew I was here, they’d light me up.

When I start walking, my jeans shift. The breeze hits and their wetness becomes uncomfortable again. Not like it ever felt great. At least my coat is long enough to somewhat cover my crotch.

All I know is I can’t show up at the Johnsons’ place with wet jeans. I go into Rocky’s convenience store.

“Tyrell,” Rocky says. “What’s good?”

“Listen,” I tell him. “I spilled a drink on myself in the car. I can’t go walking around like this. You mind if I change up in your bathroom?” I point to my backpack, which luckily has a clean pair of jeans in it.

The bathroom is not for customers, but Rocky’s known me since I was a kid. Maybe he’ll do me a solid. I only hope he can’t smell the pee scent wafting up from me.

Rocky starts to shake his head.

“Please?” I beg. “It’s kind of an emergency. I’ll buy whatever you want.”

Rocky’s known me since I was a kid. A good kid. Always. He hesitates. “One time only,” he says. “In back on the left.”