“I think that’s her mom. It’s been a while, but I’m almost certain that’s her.”
“It is. She looks just like Gianna.” Every page was of her mom’s face except for the last drawing, which was me; we were the only two people in the book. Why does that make my heart accelerate? I went back to my image and found it hard to believe that she’d drawn that from memory from the one time we’d met the day before. How hard had she been looking?
“She has a very romantic heart.” She’d have to since her drawing didn’t show any of the darkness I carry inside but was instead a very handsome and somewhat innocent face with that lock of hair falling across my forehead the way it was doing now. For some reason, it pissed me off that this is how she saw me. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this, especially her. There’s only pain and heartache in store for her or anyone else who sees this side of me and nothing else.
I snapped the book closed and replaced it before closing and locking her locker again. “Let’s bounce.”
“Wait, that’s it?”
“What were you expecting? The Geneva convention?”
“Very funny, so where to now?”
“Me? I’m headed home to bed, not sure what you got going on.”
“Oh shit, speaking of home, the douche is gone.”
“What’re you talking about? What do you mean gone?”
“You really didn’t know? You didn’t do it?” That didn’t deserve a response.
“Just tell me what happened.”
“His family left; that’s all I know. Apparently, they left with the clothes on their back…shit, if it wasn’t you then…”
“Yeah!”
“Oh shit.” He looked like a deer in headlights.
“What did you do?” I know him. When he starts getting twitchy with his overly honest ass, I know he’s up to something.
“Me? Nothing, what could I have done? Gotta go, my old man will be doing bed check soon.” He escaped into his ride and flew out of there like his ass was on fire. I just shook my head and climbed into my ride.
“I’m heading back home boys, meet me at the end of the street.” Yes, so we can pretend that you didn’t lose me, and Pop won’t lop your heads off for losing his son in the middle of the night.
You see, this is how I keep the crew on my side. I treat them with respect and look out for them where I can. This way, they’re not as hard-ass as they can be. If they fuck up with my mom or sisters, though, that’s another story; they’re on their own with that. Not even I can calm Pop down in that case, and I have too much shit to do to put myself in the line of fire if such a thing should occur.
“Where’d you go?” Well fuck! I’d come downstairs to the study where I knew he would be for at least another half an hour before going up to bed.
“How’d you know I was gone?” He looked up at me over the antiquated newspaper he still insists on reading even though the crap was now on the internet. “Is that a real question? What brings you here?”
“I went to do something with your snitch.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Lance had said something to him about the douche turd. “What did you do to them?”
“I made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.” Okay, Luca Brasi, or does that honor go to the Don?
“Why, though? I already dusted him up; he wasn’t going to be any trouble.”
“Boy, did you really think that was going to be the end of it? Word got back to the old man. If I didn’t get them the hell out of there, that murdering fuck old man would’ve left these streets swimming in blood.”
“Gramps? How does he know anything? I was careful.” He put the paper down, mildly frustrated. “How does he ever know anything? The old man is nosier than your mother, sisters and nana combined. By the way, you should’ve told me what that kid did. I know why you didn't, but still.”
So that’s what Lance had snitched about. No doubt Pop asked him for the truth, and he caved without putting up much of a fight. I seem to be the only one who ever does. “I’m not telling you where they went either because your grandpa doesn’t need to know.” Yeah, like I’m getting in the middle of whatever they got going on for the last twenty years. I better seal Lancelot’s lips before he spills anything else. What do I have on him that I can counterattack with? I’ll think of something.
“Leave Sir Lancelot alone; he’s a good boy.” Now he’s reading minds. “You ready to go up? Your ma threatened to come drag me up by my ears if I stay down here too late again tonight.”