He frowned in irritation as he thought about walking to the store. It was a couple of miles to the grocery store they frequented. The nearest convenience store was half that distance. His frown turned into a grimace when he thought about trying to buy beer in his condition. They wouldn’t sell beer to him anyway. He looked too much like a little boy for them to believe he was an adult. The store employees would probably call the police. For that matter, if he left the house and tried to walk to the convenience store, he might be picked up by the police as a runaway tot. The thought of being taken down to juvenile hall and being forced to wait in a juvenile detention facility for Anita to leave work and come for him made him forget the idea of leaving the house. The experience would be too humiliating to risk.

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