I nod. “Something like that.”
Jayden’s expression turns serious. He glances around before meeting my gaze again. “If you need some cash, I can loan you some.” He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a roll of twentydollar bills. “Pay you back for all the times you and your brother looked out for me.”
Jayden doesn’t look it now, but he’s had it worse than a lot of kids living out here. Me and Quinton always had Mama to support us. I can remember going to visit Jayden and him not even knowing where his mom was that day. Or what he was going to eat that night. Me looking out for him was just me sharing whatever I had at the time. Sometimes it was just half my candy bar. He was always so grateful.
I search Jayden’s eyes for a joke, but he seems totally serious. That is so much money. Enough that Mama wouldn’t have to worry over bills for a good while. But there’s no way I can take it. “I know whose money that is. Those boys are into some bad stuff. They’re always getting arrested.”
Jayden shoves the money back into his pocket. “Man, you don’t know anything about them. At least they care what happens to me.”
Quinton’s old warning to me comes flashing through my head. You’re not going to change the world unless you hang with people who want to change the world too. Fast money and selling stuff that hurts other people ain’t good. Be better than that.
“My brother cares,” I say. “And I know those boys don’t give you all these nice things without wanting something in return. Tell me you didn’t drop out of school to run with them.”
“I do what I gotta do.” Jayden frowns as he meets my eyes. “Getting good grades don’t help me eat. And even if it did, there ain’t nobody to help me study no more. Them people they got tutoring now don’t understand. Always lookin’ down on me, tellin’ me what I should already know. Quinton wasn’t like that. He could explain things in a way that made it all make sense.”
Those words hit hard. It’s a reminder that me and Mama aren’t the only people who depended on Quinton. That tutoring program is one more thing on a long list of stuff that’s gotten worse since his disappearance.
I lean in closer to Jayden. “What if there’s a way to get Quinton back here? Would you give the tutoring program another try?”
Jayden gives me a puzzled look. “You saying you know where he is?”
The bus turns the corner.
“Not exactly . . .” I say. “But I might’ve figured out a way to find him. Just promise me you won’t do anything that could mess up your future. He’d be really disappointed.”
I pause a second before getting on the bus, but Jayden doesn’t give me an answer.
Once I’ve taken my seat, I meet his eyes again through the window.
Jayden shakes his head but gives me the biggest smile. “Okay, ’Mari,” he mouths.
5
WHEN I GET OFF THE BUS, I’M SURPRISED TO FIND that 1440 North Main Street is a busy office building. It’s a small skyscraper, all dark glass and metal. For a place guarding so many “wellkept secrets,” I would’ve thought it’d be somewhere more . . . secret.
This place is packed even on a Saturday. I climb the stairs to the front entrance, doing my best to ignore all the eyes my suit attracts. And then nearly panic when I notice the security desk just inside the doors, but strangely the guard just smiles and waves me through, no questions asked. I spot the elevators at the back of the lobby and make my way through the crowd of adults. It’s just my luck that I’ve come on the day of some business conference.
The instructions said I have to wait for the leftmost elevator to be empty. That’s way easier said than done—it’s the elevator that gets used the most. I get so tired of standing around waiting that I take a seat on a small bench. After around fifteen minutes, the traffic in the lobby begins to die down and I finally get my chance. But just when I think I’m home free, a frowning, bald guy slips into the elevator with me.
I reach out and hold the doors.
The man spins around to face me. “Stop that! I’ve got a meeting I’m already late for.”
If I don’t think of something quick, I’ll never get where I’m going. “I’ve got a really bad cold.” I throw in a sniffle and a couple fake coughs. “I don’t want you to catch it.”
The man scoots away from me, his frown deepening. “Yes, well, maybe I can wait on the next one.” He dashes out the elevator so fast you’d think I had the plague.
Finally, I’m alone. The elevators doors shut. I take one more glance at the nomination form. Press the basement button twentysix times.
On the last press, the lights dim and a red beam scans the elevator. “Nomination form detected,” says a robotic voice. “Please proceed.” A loud click sounds, and the back of the elevator opens up to a winding hallway with metal walls.
No way. How is any of this real?
I lean forward, hoping to get a peek at where this thing leads, but it twists out of sight. No turning back now, I guess. Shaking off my nerves, I follow the hall to a small waiting room—six chairs with a magazine rack in the corner.
At the counter, a plump blonde lady smiles at me. “How can I help you?”
“My brother nominated me for . . .” What did he nominate me for, exactly?
“Of course,” the lady says politely. “Unfortunately, our recruiter isn’t in right now—”
A loud crash sounds from far off. “Ah,” she says. “Seems he’s just arrived. Use the door on the left and go on back. It’s the last office on the right.”
I do as she says and pop my head into the halfopen doorway. Inside, a desk lays in pieces on the floor. Standing over the mess is a really strangelooking guy. He’s taller than I am but just as skinny, with streaks of gray in his shaggy, brown hair. But it’s not really him that’s the problem. It’s his clothes.
He’s got on bright orange pants—traffic cone bright. His shirt is orange too. I’ve seen orange shirts before, but this guy’s shirt has the nerve to be covered in orange and brown feathers.
“Come, come.” The man waves me inside without looking up. “I’m just cleaning up a bit. I told the transporter to put me at my desk, not in my desk.” He strokes his chin. “But then again, I was chewing a rather splendid steak sandwich when I gave the command.”
I take one nervous step inside. Did he say transporter?
“My name is Amari—”
“And mine is Mr. Barnabus Ware, but full introductions won’t be necessary, I’m afraid.” He still hasn’t looked up at me once. “This year’s summer program has already begun. The kids’ll already be assigned to rooms by now.”
It’s already begun? My heart sinks. “Does that mean I’m too late? I only just got my nomination.”
“Rules are rules. Whoever nominated you should’ve filled out the proper waiver if your school year runs long. There’s always next summer—” He finally looks up at me and his eyes go wide. “Many pardons, but if you don’t mind me asking, is that suit a genuine Duboise?”
I glance down at the ugly greenandpurple stripes and shrug. “What’s a Duboise?”