The Boy Who Couldn't Sleep and Never Had To by DC Pierson Read Free Book Online Page B

construction. At the end of the street, another shuttle is just pulling up.
    â€œThe eleven fifteen,” Eric pants, “right on time!” Its doors open and Eric sprints up the stairs without stopping. I climb on and nod to the driver, who’s not Eulalio.
    â€œGO GO GO!” Eric says when he gets to his seat, though he has to see no one’s chasing us anymore. The bus pulls away at its own pace.
    By now, I imagine the commotion has disturbed what Alan had going on. I don’t know if it’s a regular thing for him or a one-time full-moon Halloween anomaly, all I know is Alan has been to a place I haven’t been to, and I’m really smart and I once heard Alan pronounce the word
especially
like this: “eck-specially.” So I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m not sorry.
    We sit there catching our breath. I am so out of shape it feels like my body has given up trying to draw air from my underused lungs and is trying to run on a heart full of caffeine and a stomach that only knows Hot Pockets, and it’s having a bitch of a time. Still, it’s kind of great. We have these characters the Agtranian Berserkers, who jab each other in the chest with big syringes full of super-adrenalinebefore they go into battle, so they’re so euphoric they don’t give a fuck if they die. As soon as I stop feeling like I’m dying, I start feeling like that.
    â€œYour house won’t be safe for a while,” Eric says. “We can go to mine.”
    I’ve never been to Eric’s house. I don’t know what I’m expecting. I guess one of those homeschoolers’ houses we talked about that one time: weird-smelling and dark and crammed with spelling workbooks and homemade candles, his mom in a dress like a farmer’s wife, listening to religious radio. But it’s not like that at all. It’s normal. Big, even.
    â€œHow did you do that?” I say as we walk up the gravel path to Eric’s front door. “You were like a fucking ninja.”
    â€œI know the neighborhood pretty well.”
    â€œDid you live over there or something?”
    â€œNo.”
    Eric takes out his keys and opens the front door.
    â€œAre your parents home?” I whisper.
    â€œYes, but they’re asleep, and their room is upstairs, so don’t feel the need to whisper.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Eric gets me a water bottle from the fridge and gets one for himself. His kitchen is cleaner than mine but essentially the same.
    â€œYou saved our asses. How did you know where the bus stop was? How did you know the way out of that … I mean, I didn’t even know we had alleys.”
    â€œI walk around at night a lot,” Eric says.
    â€œRight, my brother said they saw you that night. Here’s the thing: I think we got them back, but I’m not sure we did. I’m not sure we did anything, but it feels like we got them back.”
    â€œThey had to run,” Eric said, “but they never caught us. They were mad and they never got an outlet for their anger. One time Itried to get away from them and couldn’t and this time I did. And we probably put a hitch in things for, you know, that guy and … his girlfriend.”
    â€œMan, right through Alan’s backyard…” I’m still kind of excited. I mean, I can never go home again, but I’m never outside at night and I’m definitely never running from people at night and just narrowly escaping.
    Then I think about Alan’s backyard and what we saw back there. I think about it and I’m quiet. Eric’s quiet so I figure he’s probably thinking about it too.
    â€œCan I tell you something?” Eric says.
    â€œSure,” I say.
    Then Eric says, “I can’t sleep.”
    He says it fast and mumbly and quiet like the time I told Sara Eldensparr I liked her.
I like you. I can’t sleep
. Like something you’ve thought about a million ways to sort