The boys concentrated on the television and ignored me. “We need this room for a minute you guys,” the house manager said.
One of the boys, a tall white guy with zits, sighed.
* * * After a couple of weeks on the run, I ran out of places to sleep and went back to school. I got called into the counselor’s office over the loudspeaker. ” Next to my teacher stood the school principal, who looked like she was wearing a discount suit, like my mother wore. I suggested they call my grandmother, who lived eight hours north of Los Angeles.
The best you could do there was graduate with your GED in hand, a check for two hundred dollars, and a brand new computer.
My neighbor was there on the adjoining balcony, and as I put my cigarette out, I let him know, “I’m running away today.” Then, I ran. Once I was on the run, I learned I’d never again enjoy the leaden hibernation that comes with a deep sleep.
I imagined her like a stoned Stepford wife sitting on my ugly bed and petting it twice a day.
I heard from friends of mine on the street that she’d called them.
She filed a missing person’s report, so I spent time hiding in the shadows of the nearby college town and staying with friends, about whom she knew nothing.