My name’s Tanner, I’m fifteen. Three weeks ago I ran away from home. I hitchhiked from Redondo Beach to Santa Cruz with my surfboard (a six-seven Ukelele, quad fin), a sleeping bag and my backpack. It’s possible my mom hasn’t missed me. She’s got a drinking problem (vodka) and often she doesn’t know what day of the week it is. I quit school a few months back and Mom didn’t notice, nor did anyone else. It’s OK. Books and I don’t agree, plus I don’t like teachers telling me what to do: sit here, do this, be quiet, stop picking your nose.
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