by Aly Martinez
She looked at my hand then began slicing the pizza. “No, just keep it. You’re going to need a bunch of stuff for the new apartment. Do you have enough for the first month? I get my student loan check next week. I can help you a little and you can just pay me back—”
I swiftly interrupted her. “Stop. I’m good, I swear. I appreciate it, but I get paid on Friday—”
Then she interrupted me. “But what about your mom’s rent? I know you and your dad . . . Well, I just mean . . . Are you, um . . . going to help her this month?” She shyly looked up at me through her lashes. My dad was a sensitive subject, and even mentioning him usually put me in a shit mood.
I sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t know. I’ve been paying their rent for years. But now, I’ve got my own bills to worry about. I couldn’t care less about her getting tossed to the streets, but Flint and Quarry can’t be homeless. I don’t want to give her the money, though, if she doesn’t really need it, because, let’s be honest here—I do. But at the same time, she’s already a month behind, so if she doesn’t pay before the first, they can evict her.”
“Okay, well, what if you go in right before the office closes the day it’s due. If she’s paid it, awesome. If not, you can pay it so she doesn’t get evicted, but then make sure she really understands that you won’t be paying it again. And if you do have to pay it, let me help you at least for this month.” She looked up from the pizza and pleaded with her eyes way before she did with her mouth. “Please.”
A warm feeling passed over me. I’d never take Eliza’s money. She lived counting her pennies the same way I did. But the fact that she was willing to give me the little she had . . . There were no words. It hit me deep.
“All right, moneybags. If it comes down to the wire, I’ll let you help out. Let’s start with you taking this twenty bucks and then feeding me some pizza.”
Her lips twitched. She knew I was lying, but she didn’t bother calling me on it. Instead, she took the money and passed me a plate loaded with over half of a pizza.
One day, I was going to buy that woman everything she wanted. I didn’t know when or how. I just knew that, one way or another, it would be done.
Three years later . . .
“YO, TILL!” DERRICK BAILEY YELLED as I walked into the gym.
“What’s up?” I called out, rolling my eyes.
I fucking hated that kid with a passion. He was such a fucking suck-up. He wasn’t one of the poor kids. No, his daddy had plenty of money, and he paid a shit-ton each month for his son to be a part of the gym. So while I was mopping floors to earn my keep, he would sit and talk to me. It was obnoxious. Besides being loaded, something about him just rubbed me the wrong way.
“Flint called a minute ago while I was covering the phones. Said you need to go home as soon as possible. Some sort of cop showed up at your mom’s place.”
“Nothing new,” I mumbled to myself. “Yeah, okay. I’ll call and see what’s going on after I start the load of towels.”
“Okay. He was pretty messed up though. He said they were there about your little bro.”
“Quarry?” I spun to face him, confused.
“That’s what he said, man.” He shrugged.
“Shit.” My pulse spiked as I dropped all of my bags and sprinted from the gym.
My feet pounded the pavement as I ran the few blocks to my mom’s apartment. Quarry was ten and by no means a golden child. He had a serious attitude. Where Flint was book smart, Quarry was slick and cunning. I had been keeping a close eye on him recently. But the older he got, the sneakier he became.
He was also still a kid though.
I didn’t slow down until I’d shoved my mom’s front door open. She was sitting on the couch next to some greasy asshole in a silk shirt and across from a uniformed officer. I glanced around her run-down apartment for a second to find it surprisingly not too bad. It was still dingy as hell, but everything seemed to be in place. Clearly, Flint had been busy—and expecting this visit.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked the room, and Flint let out a relieved sigh from the corner. “Where’s Quarry?”
“Hey, honey.” My mom stood up and walked over to hug me, putting on the fakest show I had ever seen.
“Get off me.” I stepped away and put my hands on my hips. “Where’s Quarry?” I repeated.
“He locked himself in his room,” Flint answered.
My mom glared at him.
“Are you the boy’s father?” the officer asked.
I knew my size made me look older than twenty-one, but really? His father?
“No. I’m his brother. Till Page.” I extended a hand to the officer.
“You live here?” he asked, eying me but not taking my hand.
“No, sir. I have my own place across town.” My use of “sir” seemed to convince him that I wasn’t a total juvenile delinquent.
“Well, your brother hasn’t been to school in ten days. I was asked by the school to make a trip out here and see what was going on.”
My head quickly turned to my mother. “Ten days?” I asked, incredulous.
“Till, honey. I’m just as shocked as you are,” she cooed, and it enraged me.
“Ten days?” I repeated on a roar that made her flinch.
The slime ball on the couch jumped to her defense. “Hey! Don’t talk to her like that!”
“Who the hell are you?” I growled.
“Till, this is my boyfriend, Ray Mabie.”
“Your boyfriend?” I barked out a laugh. “Wow. Congratulations, Ray. You made third-string!”
“Till!” my mom hissed.
“Maybe it’s fourth-string? I can’t keep up. Let’s see . . . Every Thursday, she visits Dad in jail. Then there’s the mechanic, Pete, she sleeps with because he pays her rent and keeps this luxurious roof over her head. The best part about that is that I actually pay the rent every month because she blows it on penny slots and keeping her nails done. Then there’s the manager of the grocery store I work at who insists on personally delivering groceries once a week. Don’t even get me started on how she pays for those.” I gave him a disgusted look.
My mother’s jaw dropped open and she stuttered for several seconds before finding the lies. “You are such a liar!” She turned to Ray. “It’s not true, baby. He’s just a mean and ungrateful kid.”
I could have laughed at her gentle tone, but I had other stuff to worry about. “I’m sorry, officer. I’ll personally make sure Quarry gets back to school.”
“I’m not sure that will be enough. Quarry was skipping school for ten days and no one at home even noticed. I’m sorry, son. I’m going to have to write up a report and send it over to social services.”
“Sir, please. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to keep this off the record. Wait! How about this? I’m close with Slate Andrews at On The Ropes. I bet I could get Quarry accepted into the before and after-school programs. It would guarantee that he got to school in the mornings. He’s only ten years old, but I’m sure I can get Slate to make an exception.”
“I’m not doing slave labor at that gym!” Quarry yelled from his bedroom.
“Oh yes, you are!” I yelled back, never dragging my pleading eyes from the officer.
He looked over at Flint then back to me, ignoring my mother completely. Then he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and handed it to me. “I want proof. Get Andrews on the phone and make the arrangements, but let me talk to him before you hang up.”
“Yeah, of course,” I rushed out as I dialed the gym number.
“While you’re doing that, can you drag Quarry out here and let me talk to him for a minute? Perhaps I can give him a scare.”
“Sure. Quarry!” I yelled. “Get out here. And before you say no, I should warn you. If you make me take that door off the hinges, I swear to you that I will never put it back on. Goodbye privacy!”
Flint laughed from the corner.
Quarry loved his privacy. About a year earlier, he’d dr
afted a schedule that allotted specifics times so he and Flint both got alone time in the room they shared. I hadn’t wanted to know what the hell he was doing in there, so I’d just pretended he liked to read in peace and quiet.
I lifted a finger to the officer and looked down the hall to find the door cracked open. I smiled and went back to dialing. I decided to bypass the gym number and call Slate’s office number instead. We all had it, but it was only to be used in the case of an emergency.
Just as Slate’s secretary answered the phone, Quarry timidly made his way into the room.
“Hey, Claire. It’s Till. Is Slate around?”
“Hey, bud. He’s in the ring. Can he call you back?”
“I really need to talk to him.” My eyes flashed back to the officer chatting with Quarry. “Can you just take him the phone? Please. It won’t take long.”
“No prob. Everything all right?” she asked warmly. She was at least sixty and treated all of us as her own kids—even the assholes like Derrick Bailey.
“Yeah. I just need to talk to Slate.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” Her term of endearment was genuine—unlike my biological mom, who was cuddled into Ray’s chest, playing the role of a distraught and concerned mother.
A second later, Slate came on the line. “What’s going on, Till?”
“Listen, I need a huge favor. I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate. But . . .” I began to nervously toy with my bottom lip. “Look, my little brother Quarry’s been skipping school, and the police are here, and . . . Is there any way you could make an exception and allow him into the program at ten instead of twelve? Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll work his hours if I have to. I’m just not sure what else to do to keep this from getting reported to social services. We just got off their radar. I can’t have—”
Slate cut me off as I started to ramble. “Slow down and just take a breath. I’ll take him. It’s no big deal.”
I let out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. I’ll do whatever you need.”
“Is he big like you and Flint?”
I smiled and shook my head. Slate was always thinking about boxing. He trained everyone regardless of his size, but since he was a heavyweight himself, we were his favorites.
“He will be.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Okay, bring him in and I’ll get him set up this afternoon. He can start in the morning.”
“Thank you so much, Slate. Hey, I think the officer wants to talk to you for a minute? Is that okay?”
“Yep. Put him on. I’ll see you in a few.”
I passed the phone over and turned my attention to my mom. “I’m gonna let the boys sleep at my place tonight. I’ll take Q to the gym in the morning.”
“Okay, this is a great plan, Till. Are you going to need me to sign the release forms like I did with Flint?”
I blatantly rolled my eyes.
She didn’t sign those fucking forms when Flint turned twelve and entered the program a few months after I did. They’d sat on the counter for a week before I had forged Dad’s name and taken them back myself.
“I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do something so strenuous. I’ll do it.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“Don’t be silly. You’re not his parent.” She smiled and moved even closer to Ray.
I lifted my eyebrows and crossed my arms over my chest “Well, that makes two of us then, because neither are you. Just because you gave birth to him does not make you his parent. Boys, get your stuff. I’ll meet you outside.” I headed out the door, and the officer followed me without another word for my mom.
“Okay, Till. You need keep him out of trouble and in class from here on out. Mr. Andrews speaks highly of you. Don’t let this happen again, or the next officer might not be willing to lose the paperwork.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
He nodded then headed down the stairs.
The door was barely closed after the boys came out of it, when I heard the deadbolt click from the inside.
“Is the cop gone yet?” Quarry asked, looking out at the parking lot just as the police car pulled away. “Oh, thank God. I thought he was gonna follow us to the gym.” He turned back to the front door.
“Where the hell are you going?” I grabbed his book bag, forcing him to stumble backward.
“I’m not cleaning that gym. You and Flint enjoy mopping the floors, great. But I’m not doin’ it!” he declared, shrugging out of the straps on his bag.
“Fine. You’re right. Everyone deserves to make their own choices.” I took a menacing step forward. With my hands planted firmly on my hips, I bent at the waist and leaned down to his level. “Either you walk your ass to On The Ropes or I will carry your ass to On The Ropes. But in the next five minutes and then every single day after that, your ass will be at On The fucking Ropes.” I narrowed my eyes. “So, what’s it going to be, Q?”
He didn’t drop the attitude, but he did have the good sense not to smart off. Flint was innocently watching our showdown. Quarry’s eyes found him as he seemingly weighed his options. I fully expected Flint to chime in an attempt to keep the peace, but he remained surprisingly silent. Finally, Quarry turned and headed down the stairs.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to say ‘fucking’ to kids,” he mumbled.
As he passed me, I reached out and smacked him on the back of the head. “Don’t fucking cuss.”
“Riiiight,” he drawled sarcastically, which caused Flint to laugh as he jogged down the stairs behind him.
“DOODLE?” TILL CALLED FROM MY bedroom window while Justin Timberlake was blaring through the small speakers of my stereo.
“I’m in here!”
“Doodle?” he yelled again.
I rolled my eyes. Wiping my hands on a towel, I walked to my bedroom. “What?”
“Oh good! You’re home. You didn’t answer through the floor.” He grimaced as he rubbed his shoulder.
“I was in the kitchen. Why are you just standing out there?”
“Honestly? Slate killed me today at the gym. My entire body hurts. You’d have to be dying or have that cheese potato stuff for me to come in tonight.”
“It’s a twice-baked potato, Till. I told you how to make it.”
“I tried! I wasted my last five bucks on burnt potatoes. No, thank you! I’ll just wait for you to make them again.” He leaned in and sniffed the air. “Now, I’m hungry. You’re not making them tonight, are you?”
“No,” I answered then began to laugh when his shoulders fell with disappointment.
“It’s probably for the best. I’ve got the boys tonight. They’d just eat it all. Hey, can you come up and help Quarry with his homework? It’s official—fifth-grade math is over my head. It was a real blow to the ego.”
“Oh, God, no! Not your fragile ego!” I slapped my hands to my cheeks and feigned horror, earning me one of Till’s one-sided grins.
“I know. I took it hard. I had to flex in front of the mirror for a full five minutes before I was able to come down here.”
This probable truth earned him one of my wide grins. “Just five minutes?” I asked suspiciously.
“Okay, fine. You got me. It was ten.” He played along and threw his hands up in the air, only to wince from the movement.
“Give me a second. I was making a meatloaf. I’ll cook it at your place. Did you guys eat at the gym?”
“Yeah, but I’m always down to eat some more.”
“You got any rice? That way we won’t all starve splitting one baked potato?”
“I’ve got noodles!” He waggled his eyebrows, knowing exactly how much I hated his coveted ramen.
“Right. Okay, then. I’ll bring the rice.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I’ll meet you out front.”
After packing the food up, I met him outside. Till immediately took the pan from my hands and waited for me to walk up the stairs ahead of him.
“W
hy do you have the boys on a school night?”
“My mom got a visit from a truancy officer today. Apparently, Q thought collecting cans for recycling was a more lucrative than going to school. He skipped ten days straight. Thank fuck the officer was willing to brush it under the rug after I asked Slate to take him into the program early.”
“Wow! Ten days?”
“Yep. He wants to drop out. Warning: he’s pouting about it too. So he’ll most likely be a rude little shit tonight.”
“Oh, please. Quarry loves me. He won’t be rude to me.”
Till shrugged and pushed his front door open.
My eyes immediately landed on Quarry, who was lying facedown on the couch with Flint sitting on top of him. Quarry’s arms and legs were flailing and Flint was laughing.
“Hey! Get off him,” Till growled.
“He tried to take off when you went downstairs.” He turned his attention me and grinned. “Hey, Eliza.”
Flint Page was fifteen-years-old and virtually a carbon copy of his older brother—same black hair and one-sided smile. The only exception being his baby blue eyes. He loved to box and, by all accounts, was amazing at it. But his true love was between the pages of a book. He was a voracious reader that you would never find without a book from the library.
Every other Saturday, the boys would spend the night at Till’s. I would take Quarry to the gym to watch Flint and Till fight in the local amateur league Slate hosted in conjunction with a few other local gyms. I had never seen Flint lose, but, to be honest, I had never even seen Till take a decent punch. They were both the top seeds in their divisions.
“Hey, Flint,” I responded, and he winked.
He was the quiet type but still a flirt just like both of his brothers.
“Get off me, you dickhead.” Quarry struggled to get up as Flint held his position sitting on his back.
Till stomped over and leaned down into Quarry’s face. “Did you just say dickhead? What the fuck did I tell you about cussing? You are ten, not twenty. Act like it! ”
Quarry stilled under Till’s angry gaze. “Then make him get off me,” he whined, reminding me how young he really was.
