“No,” Danny said. “I don’t want to.”

“Good,” said his mom.

Janey looked like she’d been slapped in the face, and it made Danny think again that maybe he was making a mistake, but he was worn out, and if his mom was happy . . .

“Don’t worry, Janey. I’ll do twice as much tomorrow.”

“You think there’ll be a tomorrow?” Janey asked. “You heard Ms. Rait.”

“I’m sure that was her pride talking,” Danny’s mom said. “If she’s for real, she’s not going to punish Danny for something that’s not his fault. Good night, Janey.”

Janey got out of the car. “Good night, Mrs. Owens. Thanks again. See you tomorrow, Danny. Great game.” Janey closed the door and left with a wave.

“Bye.” Danny waved at Janey’s sad face through the window.

At home, Danny got directly into the bath.

“Can I get you a Pepsi?” his mom hollered from the kitchen.

“Yes, please!” Danny shouted through the bathroom door.

She brought in a cold can, holding a dish towel over her face.

Danny reached up and took it. “Got it, Mom. Thanks.”

“Happy?” She kept the towel pressed tight to her eyes.

“It was a great way to start the season.” Danny took a slug of soda and burped.

“Yes, it was.” His mom felt for the door and backed out of the room. “I know you’re gonna do it, Danny. You were just great, that’s all.

“Hey, how about Mr. Colchester buying our dinner?” she added.

“And us getting a booth the minute we walk in?” Danny set the Pepsi can on the edge of the tub. “It’s only the beginning, Mom. I’m gonna buy you a white Range Rover.”

“White?”

“Yeah, you look good in white, Mom.”

She laughed, making a light and airy sound. “Danny, I watched you today and it was like I was seeing your father. . . . You know he would’ve been so, so proud of you, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” Danny screamed. His heart pounding, he grabbed the can of soda and fired it at the tiled wall. The thin aluminum burst open like a grape, spraying the brown soda everywhere.

Danny’s mom yelped and jumped back, dropping the towel.

“Mom, get out!” Danny bellowed. “Just get out!”

His mom backed into the hall, let out a gut-wrenching sob, and disappeared.

Danny sat in the tub, shaken to the core. When he realized the bathwater had become slimy and cold, he toweled off and attacked the mess in a businesslike manner. He cleaned the walls, floor, and mirror with a damp washcloth. Then he brushed his teeth and went straight to his room.

He turned the Xbox on and began to play Siege with strangers. Cupcake kept sending him invites, so he backed out and went into private mode so it looked to his friends like he’d gotten off-line. He found a group of four kids in Georgia and won several games with them before killing them all in the final round just as he’d done with his friends.

It felt good to kill them all, and he listened to them cursing him while he laughed gleefully, then shut down the Xbox. He lay on his bed with the lights on, staring at the airplane models hanging from their fishing lines. He wanted so badly to recapture the feeling he’d had after the game, when they’d cheered for him and when he walked into the diner, and especially when Mr. Colchester had bought their supper.

So he replayed the scenes in his mind, over and over, but instead of becoming clearer, the fog thickened. The harder he tried to regain the images and the feelings, the more distant they seemed. Finally, his thoughts turned to Ms. Rait’s disapproval, Mr. Crenshaw’s look, Janey’s obvious disappointment, and his mother’s pitiful sob. Those images trapped him like the tangle of sweaty sheets until he threw them off and jumped out of bed.

He dressed in sweatpants, a Steelers T-shirt, and sneakers before walking softly through the house. From the hall, he saw the light of his mother’s bedroom TV flickering through the cracked open door. Canned laughter from some late-night comedy made a muted noise. He guessed she’d gone to sleep, but he was sure to be quiet as he slipped out the back door.

At first he didn’t know where he was walking to, he just knew he needed to be out of bed, out of his house. After several minutes, he realized his feet were taking him to the creek. He dialed Janey but got no answer. Of course she was asleep.

He tramped along a cornfield, its bare stalks dry and rattling in a soft breeze. When he reached the woods, he used the flashlight on his phone to navigate the well-worn trail to the creek. He stopped and sat on a boulder beside the bank, and as he did, a half-moon emerged from behind a thick cloud. Soft white light danced across the broken stream. The light and the gurgling water made him think of a dream or some magical moment where an angel might appear to make everything right, but that didn’t happen.

He crossed the stream and found their tree. Carefully, he climbed up, using a combination of branches and spikes to reach the fort they’d hidden from view, at least until the leaves fell. He was breathing hard by the time he got inside and lay down on the floor.

Danny sighed and curled up on his side in a ball. He couldn’t help thinking about Bud in the story he’d been listening to, alone and cold and abandoned. That’s how Danny felt. Something wasn’t wrong; everything was. The moonlight suddenly disappeared. In the total darkness, he felt so alone and so miserable that he wanted to cry, but he didn’t. He lay there with only the gentle rustle of leaves and the sound of his own breath for company, too sad and too empty even for tears.