When we were sixteen, we were herded out of the school and into work placements. They were supposed to give us the skills to get ready for life: learn how to work, live with a schedule, etc., etc. What it really did was get us out so they could bring more kids in. After all, we were sixteen and bitter, hormone-loaded and hotheaded. We were getting big enough to fight back.
You were supposed to stay at the placement until you were eighteen. That’s how long they were obligated to keep you, anyway. I think most of us lasted about three months. Sure, there was the odd kid now and again that you would hear about who somehow got caught and shipped back, but they didn’t exactly look too hard for us if we went running.
I split the first chance I got, and Austin followed me a week later. It took
