Tuesday night he goes out driving. It's spring break and no one's home and everything's closed and so something's got to keep him from picking at his fingers, anyway. He gets as far as the state line before he stops at the gas station to marvel at how low the prices of cigarettes are, and then he looks up and calls it a night. He's not going to get far enough away from the city for the ugly orange glow to stop blocking out the stars, so what's the point really?
He considers it again on Wednesday a little after midnight, but eventually he gives it up. A band-aid will do just fine to cover up that blister on his right thumb, and there's nothing wrong with staying inside for an entire day.