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he felt good, not awkward for once, and he carried that feeling all the way into the parking lot of the shopping center.
    “This isn’t the only shopping area in Danby, but it’s the best one-stop joint,” Walter told him as they exited the car. “You can get food over there at Dominick’s, random shit at Target, and there’s even a liquor store on the end. Though don’t go to that one until you’re legal, because they card and they’re good at spotting fakes.”
    “I don’t have a fake ID,” Kelly pointed out.
    Walter waved this away. “I’ll get you one. Don’t protest, Red. Everybody has one here. Everybody has one everywhere, because what idiots thought they’d send legal adults off to be independent but hold off the one thing they actually want to do? So. Can we get this cover thing at Target?”
    Kelly wanted to get back to the ID, because he did not want it, but he only sighed and nodded. “Yes. They have everything we need. Their dust-mite covers aren’t as fancy as the ones online, and they make a little bit of noise when you move, but they’re cheap and they work. It’s mostly a nonpermeable fabric with a good seal.”
    Walter locked the car as they headed toward the store. “What happens if we leave the cover off, use down comforters and don’t scald our sheets?”
    “At first, nothing. Eventually though I swell up, especially my sinuses, and if it’s bad enough, I won’t be able to breathe.”
    Walter shuddered. “Good to know. Do you have inhalers and EpiPens and all that stuff? Should I know where they are?”
    “I have those, yes, always in my pockets, but I take my meds and I know when I’m getting sick. I used to try and not make a fuss about things, especially the food, but I’ve had enough reactions to know I’ve got to. It’s part of why I have the meal bars. My mom buys them in bulk because we have to make sure we have ones without almonds.”
    “That sounds like it really sucks.”
    “You have no idea. The almonds are the worst. I eat a lot of vegan stuff because they exclude milk and dairy, but almonds they love. Vegans put them in everything.”
    Walter shook his head. “You should be in off-campus housing. How are you going to eat in the cafeteria?”
    Kelly stopped walking and frowned. “They said they have allergen menus.”
    Walter put a hand on Kelly’s shoulder. “Oh, Red. I keep forgetting how green you are. Let’s just say, keep your EpiPen handy, eh, and maybe a meal bar in your pocket.”
    Kelly hoped he was joking and was very afraid that he wasn’t. “Why do you keep ragging on Hope? If you hate it, why are you here?”
    “I don’t hate it. Well, I hate parts of it, yes, in the same way I hate parts of everything. It is a liberal hotbed—which is where some of the weird comes from, to be honest—but the professors are great, especially my advisor, Dr. Williams. He teaches Intro to Humanities, so you’ll have him eventually. Also the place really does take overt bullying seriously. Of course, they also have a ridiculously high suicide rate.”
    Kelly stopped walking abruptly. “What?”
    “It’s true. Look it up. They obviously don’t advertise it, but yeah. It’s just like everywhere else in life: great intentions, grim reality. They started this joint for underprivileged Chicago youth, trying to give them a better shot. Then it became one of the first to actively recruit women. Then they sought out African Americans, and now Latinos. They’ve always got an angle. But it’s just that, a way to look good. Actually being hopeful? That’s hard shit, and it’s expensive. So we get a lot of Disney.”
    “What’s wrong with Disney?”
    “What isn’t wrong with Disney? Cute bubblegum life wrapped up in a politically correct Technicolor corporate bow. Fake acceptance and other bullshit carefully crafted to be swallowed whole and consumed at a premium price.” Walter shook his head. “Hope is nothing but a bad dye job. We can’t live off