“Where’s your car?”

“Over there.” I gesture vaguely. “I’ll be fine now. Nice to meet you, Jim.” I shake his hand, and sprint to Mrs. Varnick’s car so he won’t follow. The risk of attack is low. The risk of Jim noticing the loose ignition switch is high.

I get the car going again and drive home singing my songs to myself over and over, hearing the applause like it’s filling the car. The drive home isn’t long enough. The exact sound of that clapping starts to slip from my head when I turn down our street.

I park the car in the tire ruts in Mrs. Varnick’s driveway, push the ignition tumbler back in until it pops, and toss the screwdriver in my bag. I walk slowly to the motorhome, memorizing the way it feels to tread the path: the give of the pine needles, the dense winding roots. I am hardwiring my memory, because for the first time it doesn’t feel like this will be the rest of my life.

The motorhome shifts under my weight when I climb inside. I turn on the TV, curl up in the driver’s seat, and fall asleep to black and white static.

The next day, I fail my math test. I can’t even answer most of the questions.

— Chapter 2 —

This test was your chance to prove yourself,” Mrs. Hunter says, shaking her head at me with fake concern. Her weather-girl hair barely moves. She hands over my paper, marked with red like it has the chicken pox.

I should have held on to my test until the end of class so I could escape before she started grading. But I turned it in early with the smart kids, because there were song lyrics flashing in my head and I had to scribble them in my notebook before I forgot.

“I did prove myself,” I say.

“Ape-rul!” She crosses her arms over her chest, pursing her perfectly lined lips. She was a beauty queen before she was a teacher. I wonder what her talent was.

“I proved I can’t do math,” I say, dropping the test in the trash can by her desk. I stop in the doorway to wave goodbye. Elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, and a big smile like I have Vaseline smeared across my teeth.

“April Sawicki!” she yells after me as I walk away.

I don’t see any point in going to the rest of my classes. I’ve failed so many math tests already this semester that unless I get perfect scores for the rest of the year, I’ll be stuck in summer school not understanding algebra all over again. And it’s not like I’m doing much better in English or science.