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the wallet, just like any normal person would. Like it was no big deal. I glanced at the receipt and threw it in the garbage.
    I picked up my suit and my backpack and turned to go. Then I stopped. The number I read on the receipt flashed in my mind. Could it be right?
    I ran back and pulled the receipt out of the wastepaper basket. I looked at it again. I had to say the number out loud, just so it made sense.
    â€œAccount balance: $67,482.72.”

Chapter Thirteen
    The suit fit perfectly. It looked great with the blue shirt. I didn’t have a tie, but I didn’t care. Lots of guys wear suits without ties nowadays. It looks more casual that way.
    My old brown shoes would have to go though. I mean, there’s casual and then there’s crap. They were crap. They made the suit look bad.
    There was a shoe store in the mall. I’d get something there. I stuffed my old clothes and my backpack into the garbagecan. I wouldn’t be needing them anymore. I was lucky. I left the washroom without anyone seeing me go in or out.
    A black shoe made the most sense. It would go with anything. The sales guy brought me a few to try on. I liked the loafers best. I shoved my old shoes under the bench and put the loafers on. I was going to wear them out of the store.
    I said, “I’ll take them.” I didn’t even ask what they cost.
    He said, “That will be ninety-two dollars and sixty-four cents, sir. How will you be paying for that?”
    I understood what he meant, but for a second I thought he was saying, “How the hell would someone like you have ninety-three bucks to spend on shoes?” It pissed me off. My head jerked up. I almost said something, but then I saw him smiling at me. He wasn’t worried about me having enough money. I could tell he thought the suit was pretty sharp.
    I went, “I don’t know. Cash, I guess.” I pulled out the wallet. It was so fat. I snappedthe five twenties onto the counter, one by one. I said, “Just want to make sure no bills got stuck together.” The sales guy told me some story about losing a fifty that way, and then he gave me my change. I stuffed the five-dollar bill in the little donation box they had for the children’s hospital. There was no way a guy like that would be carrying two fifties around. I smiled at him anyway and left.
    It must have been after six. I was starving. I was close to the food court. I could smell it. I smiled. Everything was so easy now. If I wanted something, I just got it. I was hungry, so I was going to eat.
    The food court was crowded. I stood in line at the Barbecue Pit. I’d just about decided on the half chicken with the spicy dipping sauce when I changed my mind. I didn’t want to get grease on my new suit. I could always buy another one of course. I
would
buy another one—but I still didn’t want to be walking around until then with a big stain down my front.
    I needed something dry and neat. A sandwich would be fine.
    I pushed my way out of the Barbecue Pit lineup and headed over to Bagel Schmagel. There were all sorts of people coming at me with trays full of greasy food. I had to swerve to avoid them. The glasses I was wearing were a little too strong for me, I guess. I had trouble judging how far away things were. I banged my hip against a guy’s table. Everything shook. I grabbed his coffee before it fell onto his plate of Chinese food.
    I went, “Sorry,” and handed the coffee back to him. The guy looked up. It was Oxner. Just my luck. Him, of all people. What was
he
doing here? I couldn’t believe he ever even left the school.
    I must have gone white. He looked right at me. I was just waiting for him to go, “Christopher Bent? Someone call the police!” But he didn’t. He just soaked up the coffee with his napkin and said, “That’s okay. No harm done.” He gave me this lame smile.
    â€œRight,” I said and kept going.
    I took a