ray, way, ran, wary, raw, war, warn, yawn, run, away
FIGURING OUT WHERE to go wasn’t easy. It wasn’t like I had an army of friends to choose from. Cosmo was still in jail. Amanda might still be mad at me, and even if she wasn’t, she’d probably feel obligated to call my mom. I didn’t know where Mohammed or Joan lived, and besides, I couldn’t really ask them to harbor a fugitive.
I had to face it. If I was doing this, I was doing it alone.
I knew I didn’t want to wind up downtown with the other homeless kids on Granville Street because I’d seen them when I’d been down there with my mom. They were tough and they hung out in packs and a lot of them had dogs and body piercings and tattoos, while I had Spider-Man underwear and a Scrabble board. I just couldn’t see it being a good fit.
I could catch a Greyhound bus to another town in B.C., or to Calgary to see Nana Ruth, but that would defeat the purpose, since the whole point was that I wanted to stay in Vancouver.
Then I had an idea, and a pretty good one at that. I jumped off the bus after only about six stops.
I would go to live on an island.
Granville Island.
A fifteen-minute bus ride from my home.