Maybe Mom’s right. Maybe this will be different. Maybe I won’t freak out like I did in front of Christy’s restaurant when the crowd got too close, pushing me in on all sides. I can still feel the way the gravel dug into my knees after I screamed and dropped to the ground. I can still hear their voices:

“Is she okay?”

“What happened?”

“I just touched her. That’s it. And she… screamed.”

“Drugs, you think?”

“Too young.”

“No such thing as too young.”

“That’s a little cynical.”

“Well, whatever it is, someone needs to do something about that mother.”

And above it all, Mom yelling, “Get your hands off my daughter!”

I shake my head. Maybe Howie and Maggie will like me so much they’ll offer me a job, and I can sit in a dark, quiet studio and make some music and some money, and it’ll be better for both of us. I’ll turn into the star, and the fighter, Mom thinks I already am.

2 I’m On My Way

We’re meeting with the Mazes on Friday. It’s Wednesday afternoon. That’s about a million too many minutes to kill. There’s not much to pack up when you live in a truck, and we’re leaving first thing in the morning after Mom gets off late at the diner. She’s been pulling double shifts for the last week. We’ll need every cent for gas money and a place to stay. I don’t think there are many campsites in the woods in LA.

As I’m walking up the hill, I wish I had more than this sweatshirt on. It’s cold today. The clouds are lumps of heavy ash waiting to drop. I can smell the coffee and something cinnamony up at Joe’s, though, so I keep going. I want to say good-bye to him, but it’s against the rules. Mom said we can’t let anyone know we’re leaving town, so we don’t get too many questions about how we can just pick up and leave so fast. But that doesn’t mean I can’t see him. I’m saying hello, not good-bye.

When I walk in, Joe leans on the counter with a dish towel over his shoulder like a bartender. “No school today?”

Oh. I’d been so focused on not breaking the “good-bye rule” that I forgot I’m technically supposed to be in school. But after Mrs. Guidry in Biloxi, Mom decided I’d never go back. She said, “Life’s too short to get hung up on your weak spots, baby. Let’s focus on your talents.” And that was that.

“No, uh, out sick. Nothing contagious, just, uh, the throat, you know?” I manage a tiny cough.

“Well, we’ve got to protect that voice. How about some tea?”