I wished we’d been able to swing longer, but as I hopped off mid-swing like a daredevil, another kid snatched my swing before it could make it back to me. The trouble with two swings was there were only two swings. There were a lot more kids in the park.
Pixie hopped off soon after and her swing suffered the same fate. I learned that morning that being on the swings with Pixie was one of the best feelings of my life so far, even though the playground was just a step up from a junkyard.
We strolled through the small space together. The basketball court was crowded with kids about our age.
“Soon the big guys will wake up and kick them off, so they get here early.”
Pixie’s observation explained the almost manic way the kids were playing the game. And I was pretty sure the faded ball they were using was really a soccer ball.
The trees in the park were barely close to the ground, as if picking the leaves off of them was a group game. Soon after I thought it, Pixie proved me right by trying to reach a leaf that was way higher than she could reach.
She was a head taller than me, but I knew I could jump. I pushed her gently out of the way, backed up, and got a running start. I was able to snatch it off the tree with the tips of the fingers on my right hand.
I handed the leaf to her, with a huge grin I didn’t realize was on my face until a nearby kid started to tease, “Look, Pixie’s got a baby boyfriend.”
The song about K-I-S-S-I-N-G in a tree started up. I wanted to defend her, but I felt my cheeks flush and my tongue get heavy.
“Alfie, shut up. No one asked you.” Pixie shot him her very mature middle finger and stuck out her tongue.
Alfie screwed his face up and stuck his tongue out at her in return.
Pixie stomped her foot and he backed up immediately.
“Don’t make me come over there.” She turned to me. “He’s a jerk. Don’t let him get to you.” Then louder, so Alfie could hear, she said, “He talks tough for a guy who peed his pants at the school play last year.”
Alfie seemed like he regretted even opening his mouth and turned his back to us.
“That’s what I thought.” Pixie pushed her lips to the side. I watched the whole scene, amused. I’d happened to have a window neighbor that was pretty kickass. And I wasn’t sorry about it.
As we walked out side by side, the gate had a set of guards now. Five huge teenage boys were joking with each other. The tallest was spinning a basketball on his finger. My gut instinct was to run, to avoid them at all costs. Pixie walked right up to them. She nodded at the basketball spinner, and he tossed the ball in her direction. I noticed he tossed it lighter than he was probably capable of.
Pixie caught it and started dribbling the ball with both hands. She was not a basketball superstar.
“Those guys giving you trouble?” the one with the long black hair closest to Pixie asked her while she focused on the ball.
“Nah. Gaze is new here, so they want him to think they’re tough. They’re not.” She passed the ball back to the tallest one.
“They don’t even know the difference between their ass and their nuts.” The middle height one had enough red in his hair that he might have been related to Pixie.
Pixie stepped back and put her hand on my shoulder. “These guys run the basketball court in the mornings. Tim, Tocks, and Drizzle.” She gestured so quickly I didn’t know which one was which. “Gaze is cool. And he’s with me.”
The guys looked me up and down and then lifted their brows at each other. I was pretty sure one of them snickered. The tallest held out a loose hand to me. I had no idea what to do with it. I mean, I’d watched in the past as Dad shook hands with customers, but a formal, old guy shake wasn’t going to help them believe Pixie’s declaration that I was cool.
“I’m Tocks.” The tallest basketball player passed the ball to the redheaded guy and gave me a very quick tutorial about what was expected. We were supposed to drag our fingers down to the tips and then slap hands twice in a row quickly. Then we clutched fingertips and pulled away like they had almost been stuck together.
Each of the guys did the same with me, and by the time I was done, I knew the redhead was Tim and Drizzle hit my hand pretty freaking hard.
This was great. Really great. I’d ask Pixie how she managed to get on their good sides later, but she was already on to the next setup. “You guys waiting for Dreck? He was in the alley last night, late.”
The guys all made grumbling noises, calling Dreck a pussy and other slurs.
“Take Gaze. I bet he can play.” She pointed at me and I wanted to disappear.
I was good at sports. Like stupid good. Picked first and all that. But I was twelve. These guys had to be pushing eighteen.
Tocks tilted his head toward the court, which was already full with two groups of younger kids. As Tocks and his buddies walked toward it, the younger ones scattered as if a fire alarm was pulled. Pixie smiled at me. “Is this okay?”
I said yes because I didn’t want to look like a wuss, but I was pretty sure I was about to be as useful as a sweat towel. I just hope they didn’t treat me like one.
“I’m going to head home and check on Mom, but I’ll be back with a book. Stay with Tocks.”
And with that, she walked away as I faced three huge guys, ready to play two-on-two.
Chapter 3
Pixie Rae
GAZE SEEMED SKITTISH, but I knew Tocks would watch out for him. I was concerned that Mom would be so asleep she would hurt her neck while lying in the sitting position. It had happened before.
I walked home while watching my surroundings. It was a natural thing I did. Any kid born in the city grew up scanning the area. The front door of our building was propped open, even though it was always supposed to be closed. I was betting the back door was open, too. Always aware. I had to know where people could come from, though during the day it was a lot easier to get from place to place. A few weeks ago there was a shoot-out two blocks down before lunch, so nothing was written in stone.
I wrapped my hands around the dangling keys around my neck so I could enter my place the quietest way possible. Mom wasn’t in the chair anymore, and after following the trail of her discarded uniform, I found her in her bed. She hadn’t had the energy to cover herself with her threadbare blanket, so I did it.
Dinner would be on my shoulders tonight. Again. I missed the cooking Mom would do when I was younger. Even if it had only been hot dogs, she did it all—cooked the meal, cleaned the dishes, and tucked me in at night. That was before Dad left. Now it was all up to her to make money to pay the bills. I understood, but I missed her a lot.
I went to the fridge and frowned. I could make mac and cheese, but I needed cheese. I only had butter, milk, and noodles. I went to my special envelope and took out five dollars. The corner CVS had cheese in the refrigerated section, but it was more pricey than the grocery a few blocks away.
But I wanted to get back to Gaze. I grabbed my paperback, water bottles for him and me, and locked the door behind me. At least Mom was home.
When I got back to the playground, the heat was really picking up. Soon the basketball court would be in full sun, and Tocks, Tim, and Drizzle would be done and headed home.
I sat under the one tree that had enough leaves to cast a shadow and put my back against the scarred bark. It was a tough tree, because it was littered with initials and words, but it still gave us green leaves in the summer.