raise his hand to his mother, no matter how furious she made him.
Erika grew tired eventually and staggered away. Corrado watched her as she spit toward him, her face contorted. "You disgust me!"
Likewise, mother .
That moment, as Erika staggered from his room, altered something inside of Corrado. He rubbed his jaw, stinging from a blow, and caught sight of his sister smirking in the hallway. He knew, from the smug look on her face, that she'd instigated it yet again. She'd told their mother he had the money.
Standing, Corrado stalked to his door, glaring at his sister. "You know what, Kat?"
"What?"
"You're on your own now."
He slammed the door in her face.
Early the next morning, while everyone else was still in bed, Corrado slipped out of the house and headed into town. The walk took him two hours, the sun just rising and the streets coming alive when he strolled along the sidewalk, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Where he was going, what he was doing, he wasn't sure. But he couldn't sit around that house; he couldn't deal with them anymore.
He visited shops and sat in a park, enjoying the sunshine, ignoring his life.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, he missed North Carolina. He missed the mountains. He missed that house.
Or maybe he just missed Celia.
It was mid-afternoon when he ran into a group of boys from school: Michael Antonelli, Shawn Smith, and Charlie Klein. The three were rolling through the park on their bikes while Corrado sat alone on a bench. Charlie skidded to a stop when he spotted him, the other two following suit. "Corrado, right?"
Corrado didn't particularly like any of the boys. After a few beats, he nodded.
"Where's your sister?" Michael asked, smiling goofily.
Corrado shrugged. "Home."
"Well, whatcha up to?" Charlie asked. "We're heading to the arcade on Fillmore, if you wanna join us."
After considering it, Corrado shook his head. He'd had enough of dealing with people to last for a while, and he just wanted to be left alone.
"Your loss," Charlie said. "You change your mind, you know where to find us. The pizza's on me."
Corrado sat there quietly when the boys rode away. After a while, his stomach growled, the mention of pizza stirring up his hunger. What could it hurt?
He debated before walking the few blocks to the arcade. The place was chaotic with summer break still in full force for another few weeks.
"Corrado! Over here!"
Charlie's voice rang through the place. Corrado spotted the boys sitting in a center booth, a large pie already on the table. He joined them, slipping in the seat beside Michael.
"Glad you changed your mind," Charlie said. "Eat up, my friend."
My friend . The words struck Corrado strangely. He didn't consider Charlie a friend at all. The boy was older by two years and had a reputation as a troublemaker.
"Where you guys been this summer?" Michael asked, gnawing on a slice of pepperoni, cheese hanging from his chin.
"Away," he said.
"Missed seeing you around."
Corrado's brow furrowed, while Shawn snickered, tossing a napkin at Michael. "You missed looking at his sister, Mikey . That's all that is."
Michael tossed the napkin right back but didn't deny it.
The boys ate and chatted. Charlie dumped out a pocket full of change—at least four dollars in silver coins. Michael and Shawn grabbed some and ran off to play games, while Corrado just sat there, curiously watching Charlie. He wasn't sure why he'd been invited, but he could spot a scheming person a mile away.
His stomach growled at the smell of greasy pizza, so he reached for a slice. He took a small bite, savoring the taste, when Charlie pulled out a stack of bills. He flipped through it, and Corrado nearly choked when he spotted almost a dozen twenties mixed in the bunch. Even his father rarely left him that much. "Where'd you get all that money?"
Charlie smirked. "Earned it."
"How?"
Charlie glanced around to make sure no one was listening as he leaned closer, whispering, "by doing
Erika grew tired eventually and staggered away. Corrado watched her as she spit toward him, her face contorted. "You disgust me!"
Likewise, mother .
That moment, as Erika staggered from his room, altered something inside of Corrado. He rubbed his jaw, stinging from a blow, and caught sight of his sister smirking in the hallway. He knew, from the smug look on her face, that she'd instigated it yet again. She'd told their mother he had the money.
Standing, Corrado stalked to his door, glaring at his sister. "You know what, Kat?"
"What?"
"You're on your own now."
He slammed the door in her face.
Early the next morning, while everyone else was still in bed, Corrado slipped out of the house and headed into town. The walk took him two hours, the sun just rising and the streets coming alive when he strolled along the sidewalk, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Where he was going, what he was doing, he wasn't sure. But he couldn't sit around that house; he couldn't deal with them anymore.
He visited shops and sat in a park, enjoying the sunshine, ignoring his life.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, he missed North Carolina. He missed the mountains. He missed that house.
Or maybe he just missed Celia.
It was mid-afternoon when he ran into a group of boys from school: Michael Antonelli, Shawn Smith, and Charlie Klein. The three were rolling through the park on their bikes while Corrado sat alone on a bench. Charlie skidded to a stop when he spotted him, the other two following suit. "Corrado, right?"
Corrado didn't particularly like any of the boys. After a few beats, he nodded.
"Where's your sister?" Michael asked, smiling goofily.
Corrado shrugged. "Home."
"Well, whatcha up to?" Charlie asked. "We're heading to the arcade on Fillmore, if you wanna join us."
After considering it, Corrado shook his head. He'd had enough of dealing with people to last for a while, and he just wanted to be left alone.
"Your loss," Charlie said. "You change your mind, you know where to find us. The pizza's on me."
Corrado sat there quietly when the boys rode away. After a while, his stomach growled, the mention of pizza stirring up his hunger. What could it hurt?
He debated before walking the few blocks to the arcade. The place was chaotic with summer break still in full force for another few weeks.
"Corrado! Over here!"
Charlie's voice rang through the place. Corrado spotted the boys sitting in a center booth, a large pie already on the table. He joined them, slipping in the seat beside Michael.
"Glad you changed your mind," Charlie said. "Eat up, my friend."
My friend . The words struck Corrado strangely. He didn't consider Charlie a friend at all. The boy was older by two years and had a reputation as a troublemaker.
"Where you guys been this summer?" Michael asked, gnawing on a slice of pepperoni, cheese hanging from his chin.
"Away," he said.
"Missed seeing you around."
Corrado's brow furrowed, while Shawn snickered, tossing a napkin at Michael. "You missed looking at his sister, Mikey . That's all that is."
Michael tossed the napkin right back but didn't deny it.
The boys ate and chatted. Charlie dumped out a pocket full of change—at least four dollars in silver coins. Michael and Shawn grabbed some and ran off to play games, while Corrado just sat there, curiously watching Charlie. He wasn't sure why he'd been invited, but he could spot a scheming person a mile away.
His stomach growled at the smell of greasy pizza, so he reached for a slice. He took a small bite, savoring the taste, when Charlie pulled out a stack of bills. He flipped through it, and Corrado nearly choked when he spotted almost a dozen twenties mixed in the bunch. Even his father rarely left him that much. "Where'd you get all that money?"
Charlie smirked. "Earned it."
"How?"
Charlie glanced around to make sure no one was listening as he leaned closer, whispering, "by doing
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