I walk back to Prairie Pizza girl and crouch down with a dusty brochure that I found under my seat. We’ve passed the Polis school twice now, I say. I unfold the old brochure to reveal the map of Center.
The girl whispers.
Even though I can’t hear her, I say, Yes, the Polis school—
—Nah, man, she’s going past the school, O.G. says.
I must look confused.
The u…