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exasperated. “But does he have to be such a slob? Why does going through a rough time give you the right to dump soda or whatever on somebody else’s bed?”
    My mother glared at me. “I don’t think it’s soda, Andrew.”
    It took me a minute to figure out what she meant. “WHAT?! He pissed the bedmmph?” Mom thrust her hand over my mouth before I could get the words out and dragged me into her office “That’s disgusting,” I said. “And why didn’t he say anything?”
    â€œI don’t know, Andrew. He’s probably mortified. Kris says he’s been having a lot of trouble at school with kids picking on him.”
    It didn’t really fit with my ideas about Barry. I guess I just figured, from the way he talked about girls and hockey, that he had friends. He seemed to me like someone who would fit in pretty well. But what do I know about fitting in?
    Mom went over to the bed and pulled off the comforter and the sheets. “It’s not that big a deal, Andrew. You did it when you were little. It’s mostly water anyway.”
    I looked at the wet mark on my mattress. It vaguely resembled the mitten-shaped state of Michigan. “Easy for you to say,” I said. “You’re not the one sleeping in piss.”
    â€œ
Compassion
, Andrew,” she said as she went through the door, carrying the bundle of soggy sheets to the laundry room.
    Sullenly I walked back into the living room, where Krisand Barry were transfixed by the men moving on the screen. I even felt a little bit bad for Barry. Until he opened his mouth again.
    â€œHey,” he said without glancing away from the screen. “You know how I know you’re gay?” I couldn’t believe he was starting in on this shit again. “You don’t like football,” he said, and then he choked on a swallow of soda so it came out his nose.
    â€œCome on Barr Barr,” Uncle Kris said, still staring right at the game. “Don’t make a mess.”
    A MESS?
I wanted to scream.
How about the mess you already made in my bed?
I stormed back down the hall and into my room. That was when I packed my bag.
    I dumped out my backpack onto the bare mattress, careful to avoid the wet spot. I had brought home most of my textbooks in an effort to impress upon Mom my interest in improving my grades. I scooped up all the books and loose papers and looked around the room for somewhere to put them. I used my big toe to nudge my desk chair away from the desk and dumped the pile there. When I pushed the chair back in, you could hardly see the stack. As an afterthought I went back and grabbed the notebook I’d been doodling in and my copy of
Into the Wild
.
    Into the backpack went a couple changes of clothes, some clean underwear, my toothbrush, and my extra glasses. I grabbed all the cash I had, which wasn’t much, and the emergency credit card Mom gave me but told me never to use. I also had a check from Mrs. Grindle down the street, who’d paid me for raking her leaves the last two Saturdays. It wasn’t much, but I figured it was enough to get me a bus ticket to Indiana. If I had to use the credit card, that wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like I was trying to hide where I was going. I planned to call Momand tell her where I was—just not until it was too late for me to turn back.
    When I turn the corner of Evergreen Street and Washington Avenue, it really kind of hits me. No one is coming to stop me. I’m really leaving town on my own. The bus station is on the far end of Washington, and even though there’s a public bus that runs along Washington, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t run often on holidays so I just keep walking. It feels good to walk. I’m kind of afraid if I stop walking to wait for the bus I might lose my momentum all together.
    I keep trying to rationalize my escape in my head as I walk. Going to Mima’s isn’t such a