Paranoid Park by Blake Nelson

had to stand up and walk out of the room without letting anyone see my face. I ran down into the basement and fell onto the old couch, sobbing as quietly as I could.
    “Honey?” my mother called down the stairs. “What are you doing? You’re going to be late.”
    I had become very good at covering up. I instantly stopped crying, and in a perfectly reasonable voice, said, “Nothing, Mom, just looking for a book. Can I take your car to school?”
    “You’re going to have to if you don’t hurry up....”
    “I know. I’m coming,” I said. I dried my eyes with the back of my hand. I wiped the snot on one of the cushions. I took a deep breath and walked up the stairs.
    My mom stopped me in the hall. “Honey, your eyes are all red-are you all right?” The funny thing was, she thought it was her fault. She thought I was upset about the separation.
    “I’m fine,” I answered. “It’s just allergies.”
    “Did you take those pills?”
    “I did, but they make me so sleepy. I gotta go. Can I take your car?”
    She gave me the keys and I hurried out. I threw my books in the front seat and sat in the car for a moment, trying to pull myself together.
    That’s when I saw Macy McLaughlin standing in the grass beside me.

    Macy needed a ride to school. She had missed her bus. Could I take her with me?
    That was about the last thing I wanted to do. But what could I say? I motioned for her to get in. She did, putting on her seat belt while I started the car. I backed down the driveway, but I went too fast and just missed taking out our mailbox. I had to take it easy.
    I put the car into drive and started forward. But then Rufus, the neighbor’s dog, dashed into the street right in front of me. I slammed on the brakes. “Get out-ta the street, you dumb dog! ” I shouted.
    Macy stared at me.
    “Why can’t people keep their stupid dogs in their stupid houses, where they belong?” I muttered.
    Macy remained silent.
    “What?” I said. “You saw him. He ran right in front of me!”
    “I didn’t say anything.”
    “And now he’ll go knock over our garbage cans. And I’ll have to clean it up.”
    “You’re sure in a good mood this morning,” she said. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”
    “Nothing. Allergies.”
    “I thought people got allergies in the spring,” she said.
    I didn’t answer. I stopped at a red light. I turned on the radio. But I hated the radio now; I couldn’t listen to anything for more than a few seconds. I turned it off.
    “Actually, I’m supposed to ask you something,” said Macy.
    “Yeah? What?”
    “My friend Rachel wants to buy her boyfriend a skateboard. For their anniversary.”
    I shook my head.
    “What’s wrong with that?” she asked.
    “Skateboards aren’t something a girlfriend can buy you.”
    “That’s why she wanted to ask you.”
    “Nobody can buy you a skateboard,” I said. “It’s a personal thing. You have to pick it yourself.”
    “Would you at least go with us?”
    “And they cost too much anyway. A decent skateboard can cost a hundred bucks.”
    “She doesn’t care.”
    “It’s just not a good idea.”
    “But couldn’t you just come with us?”
    “No,” I said. “And she shouldn’t do it at all.”
    “Ohh-kay,” said Macy. “Obviously someone’s in a bit of a mood—”
    “Why would someone think they could buy someone a skateboard?” I snapped. “It’s idiotic.”
    I was driving too fast again. I made myself slow down.
    Macy watched me. I could feel her eyes on me. “Are you okay?” she asked.
    “I’m fine. Jesus.”
    She watched the houses going by on the right. “I heard about your parents.”
    “My parents are the least of my worries.”
    “Yeah? What is it, then? Is it something about Jennifer Hasselbach?”
    “It’s nothing,” I said, lowering my voice. “I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
    I didn’t say anything more. We arrived at school. I drove slowly over the speed bumps at the front entrance. “If