Excerpt: This Is the Way, Step Inside

“You hexed me, lackey.”
“What?”
He shook his head. He was trying to remember if he had any CD-R’s at home. It wasn’t like he could buy any, because he didn’t have a job. He wasn’t even supposed to be buying coffee. The church lady had given him ten dollars, but he didn’t know why, and it embarrassed him, a little. Probably, she thought that he couldn’t work because he stuttered and looked weird. She probably thought that ten dollars was a lot of money, to someone like him. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud that he had fooled the church lady and gotten her money, or ashamed of himself. He felt ashamed of himself a lot, so he figured he might as well try to feel proud, and spend her ten dollars on something useless.
He thought he could shoplift some CD-R’s. He thought about going into Red Oak and stealing some blank CDs, and the kind of scene that would cause. The cops would come, and he would wait around for them. He would say that Travis Friend had planted the CDs in his bag. He would say that Travis Friend had pushed him, and press charges for assault. But Red Oak most likely did not sell blank CDs. If he had any friends at all, he could just ask his friends for some, because that was probably what anyone else would do. But he didn’t have any friends, either. Then he remembered that idiot down the hall, Eric, and his pointless obsession with Oliver’s stuff. He figured that retard probably had a few CD-R’s sitting around. He thought he might be able to trade the Moon Lay Hidden Beneath a Cloud album for some blank CDs. Then he remembered that he did not care about this girl, and whether she got her stupid mix or not. She’d probably just use it for a beer coaster anyway, or sell it for dope, or trade it at the anarchist bookstore for a place to stay. He remembered that he did not have a job, either, and hoped he would never have to stay at the anarchist bookstore. He’d kill himself first. He couldn’t imagine walking up to Knowledge Is Power and asking to sleep on their floor. Getting any actual sleep at Knowledge Is Power would be impossible. He would have to stay up all night reading Valerie Solanas reprints and zines drawn with Sharpies by guys named Joey Wrenchthrower. There basically wouldn’t be anything worse than sleeping on the floor in the anarchist bookstore. He suddenly felt very angry, and he thought that maybe it was because this girl could be summed up as “the type of girl who sleeps on the floor at Knowledge Is Power.” He felt mean, and wanted to ask her if she’d shoplifted her lunch yet, but figured she might take that as an invitation to join him for one thing or another and he did not want her hanging around, and besides, he had already eaten her lunch himself.
“I ate your lunch,” he said.
“I know. Thanks.”