Page 23 of String Boys

How delicious.

They saw their stop coming up, and Kelly leaned over and said, “Now remember, I have to go say hi to everyone. Get your practice out of the way then!”

Seth nodded and they stood, Matty behind Seth as they walked toward the front and waited for the bus to stop.

That moment—that moment in his life, he knew exactly what he wanted.

Wingman

KELLY GRIMACEDas they lined up to get off the bus. “Shit,” he muttered, seeing the faces at the bus stop as they pulled near. “What’s he doing there?”

Matty sucked in a breath. “I’ll deal with him. You guys go home. I don’t even want him to see you.”

Seth pulled his attention away from, well, hopefully Kelly’s lips, because Kelly had been looking forward to thatall day, and finally noticed the skinny, narrow-eyed white boy with brown dreads standing a few feet back from the bus stop.

“Who’s that?” he asked with distaste.

Yeah, well, the kid hadn’t done well after his two-year expulsion from his home district. Wherever his parents had put him had apparently been thug-training, because Castor Durant had come back a certified “weapon-toting drug-abusing dirt-under-his-fingernails dyed-in-the-shitty-dreadlocked” criminal.

“Castor Durant,” Matty muttered. “Heard he’s been hanging around the junior high, passing out free samples.”

“Free samples of what?” Seth asked fuzzily, and Kelly grimaced. He loved the guy—oh God, he loved him with his heart and his hormones and everything, but holy crap! Whatever planet Seth spent most of his mind on, it must have been awesome because he didn’t come to Earth for anything but Kelly and his goddamned violin.

“Of meth!” Kelly growled. “Bad shit too. They had to take two kids to the hospital because it was cut with drain cleaner.”

Matty gave him a hard look. “Where’d you hear that?”

“A kid in my art class has a little sister at the junior high. Parents are transferring her to the one Seth went to. Castor Durant is bad news.”

The bus slowed to a halt and swerved to the curb. “Okay, we’re gonna get off this bus talking loudly about my damned soccer game, okay? And we’re gonna breeze right by him like he’s a ghost. You hear that, Seth? No wandering brain like you get. Talk about my soccer team like it’s the frickin’ Bible, you understand?”

Kelly double-checked Seth’s nod to make sure he was with them. He was, but he was also scared shitless—his big eyes made that clear. Kelly winked at him, and then the doors opened and Kelly started down the stairs, chattering for all he was worth.

“So tell me that idiot who kicked the ball in your face isn’t playing again,” he called over his shoulder. “Because that was supposed to be a pass and you almost lost all your teeth!”

“That was bad,” Seth said seriously. “Next time, he needs to hit the basket.”

Kelly’s eyes got really wide—he could feel it. So he hopped down the step and laughed, because that’s what he’d do if this was a real conversation. “In the basket! Good one, man! D’you hear that, Matty? Make sure the ball hits the basket!” He was a couple of feet down the curb now, and Castor Durant was still waiting to get on the bus. Kelly turned toward his brother, hoping the moron would see it was his turn to talk loudly and without meaning.

“Yeah,” Matty said stiffly. “That’s hilarious. You should tell that to the guys on the team and see how they like it.”

Seth ducked his head. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I played.” And the hell of it is, he was sincere. Here they were, bantering for their life, and the guy was genuinely sorry he didn’t know a basket from a goal.

“Yeah, well, you do plenty good in track,” Matty said, his voice softening like it often did when they talked to Seth. “You gonna join again in the sp—”

Then… oh no!

Castor Durant had stopped, one hand on the pole just inside the door of the bus, one hand on Matty’s arm. “Matty,” he said, his voice a flinty smack to the nads. “Good to see you around. You don’t go to Oak River?”

“Nope,” Matty said, like this guy wasn’t the whole reason he was taking the bus to a school half the city away. “Got my grades up. Going somewhere else. Gonna go to college.”

“Didn’t know you turned into an asshole while I was gone.” Castor let go of Matty’s arm so fast, Matty stumbled forward. “See you fags later.”

Matty whirled, his fists balled up and ready to fly, but Castor was already on the bus and the doors were closing behind him.

“Asshole,” he muttered. “I’ll shut his filthy mouth and break his filthy teeth—”

“Matty!” Kelly said harshly, stomach cold. Oh God. Look at his brother, all mad. Because nothing pissed him off more than that fucking f-word. “You’re gonna be late. C’mon!”