17. Sucker
Dad’s crashed out on the couch by the time I’m changed into biking clothes and headed for the door. Corinthian’s new location looks to be only a few blocks farther from my house than the old one, but in the opposite direction, deeper into the bad end of town, or rather, the end that’s slightly too bad to be considered part of town at all.
Ordinarily, I’d wait until I could arrange a ride, or at least until daylight, but not for this. I’m not waiting a moment longer than necessary for this.
Plus I can lift a car over my head. I think I can handle an evening bike ride on my own.
The trek is a little less than two miles, all of it downhill, through increasingly dilapidated and adspace-covered houses, and then away from residential streets completely, away from all the main thor
