Death & Dying
"I like being alone," I say. "Honestly. Groups just aren't my thing. It's actually fun not having friends."
I don't know why I said that. It was supposed to be funny, but it sounds pathetic. Van's face is more transparent even than mine. He doesn't embarrass easily but he definitely looks annoyed.
"I don't think sarcasm suits you," he says stiffly.
I'm tired of talking about this. I stand up and stretch. "Have you ever seen Renegade?" I ask.
"Who's Renegade?" says Van.
"A horse," I say. "Come on."
Oh, man. Someone must have seen Indi and me doing our thing. They recognized me and reported it to the cops. This envelope is from the cops. They write letters? Wouldn't they just come and hassle me?
I keep cool, reach inside, draw out a sheet of paper. It doesn't have any official emblems. It just looks like a letter, starting with "Dear Samuel." Weird. No one writes me letters. I shoot another glance at Mom but she hasn't budged. She's just standing there looking like she's going to burst.
