The grocery selection is limited to the tiny grocery store and two gas station convenience stores-one of the 4,724 reasons I want to escape this town.
“Hear my whippoorwill?" I ask, moving on to lighter topics. “You won't hear those in Des Moines or Chicago."
“I hear your annoying little friend," he teases. “He's probably warning you it's too late to be out and to go home."
“I can't go home." I confess what he already knows to be true.
“Not any better, huh?"
“She's staying out later and later," I admit. “She's out much later than the bars stay open. I don't want to even think of what that means."
“It's harsh, but you can't help her if she refuses the help." Hamilton's words ring true but do nothing to dissuade my guilt. “I can't help but think your life will start when you leav
