He was used to the stares.
They were obvious when everyone tried not to let him know they were staring, since it was rude to stare at someone in a wheelchair. Clay didn't mind, though. He would walk again, and his friends were worth awkward second glances from total strangers. Or when the boy waiting in front of him in the checkout line turned around with big, curious eyes.
"Hey, Mister? What's wrong with your legs?" Everyone around them stilled at the question. The boy's mother looked mortified.
Clay didn't mind, though.
"Nothin'" He grinned, "I just like doin' wheelies."