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looking past us. I think Bobby was right when he said it’s not over. Theo knows that and that’s why he keeps texting. Mia knows, too; that’s why she keeps watching Theo.

The Fiery Inferno
    “Does anyone but me care that we have no idea where we’re going or how long it’s going to take to get there?”
    I get a chorus of sleepy no’s. We’ve been on the road for six hours, one speeding ticket, four pit stops, and one drive-thru crisis (Dad wrongly guessed the height of the bus and we took out the lane sign at a hamburger place).
    I know we only left home this morning and we’re on a well-traveled interstate, but I have visions of running out of money and gas and being forced to live in the wilderness with Dad. He’ll love it. He’s probably hoping we’ll have to eat small animals we catch with sticks, and strain drinking water through our underpants from puddles on the side of the road.
    “I could listen to this engine purr for a long time,”Gus says. He’s sitting in the seat behind Dad, clutching a wrench and eyeing the gizmos on the dashboard, hoping, I guess, that something goes wrong under the hood.
    “The further the better,” Theo says. “And it’s good to see some other sights.” He tries not to, but throws a quick glance in Mia’s direction. She notices and blushes. Atticus growls at Theo and I hide my smile.
    “Dude, I think your dog is into Mia,” Theo says under his breath.
    “That makes three of us,” I whisper back.
    He laughs. “Yeah.”
    “I was born to travel,” Mia says, breaking up our huddle, “like maybe I’ve got gypsy blood.” She suggested road bingo, Twenty Questions, I Spy, the alphabet game, and Slug Bug, but no one took her up. She must be making a list of license plates, because she happily whispers “Nevada” or “Vermont” to herself and scribbles in her notebook. I take a picture of Atticus resting his head in her lap.
    Dad says, “I’ve been itching to take a trip for a long time.”
    Who asked you to chip in, Mr. It’ll All Work Out? Then it hits me: I’ve been with Dad for hours and we’ve barely talked. And my mother’s been trying to reach me all day, but it’s easy to avoid her. I could stay on the road forever. Or until my parents get their business straightened out. If they can’t afford hockey camp, can theyafford me anymore? Could I have myself declared emancipated? It’s extreme, I know, but it’d be so cool living on my own. Maybe Theo and I could get a place and—
    “STOP THE BUS!” Gus roars. The tires squeal and leave black smoking skid marks on the asphalt as Dad stamps on the brakes and the bus comes to a shuddering stop in the gravel on the shoulder of the road. Atticus is barking like a lunatic.
    Dad leaps up and hurls himself down the stairs. I’m on my feet before I know what’s going on, flying up the aisle, hot on Dad’s heels, charging to the front door. When Dad and I clear the bus and land on the pavement, we look behind the bus. There’s a burning car on the side of the road about twenty yards from where we’ve stopped.
    The car has a few flames darting out from under the hood. Dad and I sprint to the car in what feels like less than a second. He won’t let me close enough to see if anyone’s inside—he’s trying to stay between me and the car. We’re squinting through the smoke from a few feet away, but we can’t see inside. Dad takes another step toward the passenger door, shoving me farther behind him. I surge forward, shoulder to shoulder with Dad. Just then, the burning engine makes a freaky, deep
wa-hump
and the flames leap up. I hear Mia scream. Atticus barks and Gus shouts, “Get back!”
    Dad leaps backwards, yanking me with him. He waves the smoke away from his eyes but keeps heading for the car.
    “Wait! I’ll be right back.” I pull Dad away from the car and gesture toward the bus.
    I remember having seen a fire extinguisher by the driver’s seat, so I race back, catapult myself up the