loose-leaf? ’Cause we could scrounge up some of
that if you need it.”
“Uh-huh,” Carlos says.
Tuck holds out his hand. “By the way, I don’t think we’ve been
formally introduced. I’m Tuck. You know, rhymes with luck.”
“And fuck,” Carlos adds.
“Yep, that, too,” Tuck says, unfazed. He points to Carlos with a big,
cocky smile. “You are quick with the comebacks, amigo.”
Carlos flicks Tuck’s finger away. “I’m not your amigo, asshole.”
Tuck’s cell phone rings. He slides it out of his pants and says, “I’ll
be right there,” then shrugs and says to me, “Well, I’m outta here. My
stepdad, Rick, is making me and Mom go to some stupid rope-knotting
class. Kiara, I’ll see you in school tomorrow.” He turns to Carlos. “See
you ’round, amigo.”
Tuck is out of sight in an instant, leaving me standing with Carlos in
the hallway. He steps in front of me. When Carlos has his attention
fixed on me, it’s very intimidating, whether he intends it or not. He’s
like a panther ready to pounce, or a vampire ready to suck the blood
out of anyone who stands in his way.
“By the way, I didn’t need paper. Your boy Tuck was right on. I was
snoopin’.” He walks back to his room, but turns to me before he closes
the door. “These walls are paper thin. You might want to remember
that the next time you and your boyfriend talk about me,” he says,
then slams his door shut.
SEVENTEEN : Carlos
In the evening, I’m summoned to the Professor’s home office. I
expect his wrath. Honestly, I want his wrath. If he or that judge at
the juvie courthouse thought bringin’ me here would reform me or
change me, guess again. It’s pure instinct that makes me rebel every
time someone tries to control my life and hand out more rules.
Professor Westford tents his fingers and leans forward in his
chair, which is facing the small couch I’m sitting on. “What do you want,
Carlos?” he asks.
Huh? I’m caught off guard here. I didn’t expect him to say that. I
want to go back to Mexico and continue living my life on my terms. Or
go back to Chicago, where my friends and cousins I grew up with are . .
. I sure as hell can’t tell him I’d like to bring mi papá back from the
dead.
Westford sighs when I don’t answer. “I know you’re a tough kid,” he
says. “Alex told me you got into some heavy stuff in Mexico.”
“So?”
“So I just want you to know that you can create a new life here,
Carlos. You started off on the wrong foot, but you can wipe the slate
clean and start new. Alex and your mother want the best for you.”
“Listen, Dick. Alex doesn’t know me.”
“Your brother knows you better than you think he does. And you’re
more alike than you want to believe.”
“You just met me. You don’t know me, either. And to be honest, I
don’t have much respect for you. You opened your home to a guy who
got arrested for drugs. How come you’re not afraid of havin’ me here?”
“You’re not the first kid I’ve helped, and you won’t be the last,” he
assures me. “And I should probably let you know that before I got my
doctorate in psychology I was in the military. I saw more death and
guns and bad guys than you’ll ever see in your life. I might have gray
hair on my head, but I’m just as tough as you are when I have to be. I
think we can work together. Now, let’s get back to why I called you
down here. What is it that you want?”
I better say somethin’ to get him off my back. “To go back to
Chicago.”
Westford leans back. “Okay.”
“What’dya mean ‘okay’?”
He puts his hands up. “I mean ‘okay.’ You follow my house rules until
winter break, and I’ll get you to Chicago for a visit. I promise.”
“I don’t believe in promises.”
“Well, I do. And I don’t break them. Ever. Now, enough serious talk
for tonight. Relax and make yourself at home. Watch some TV if you
want.”
Instead, I head
that if you need it.”
“Uh-huh,” Carlos says.
Tuck holds out his hand. “By the way, I don’t think we’ve been
formally introduced. I’m Tuck. You know, rhymes with luck.”
“And fuck,” Carlos adds.
“Yep, that, too,” Tuck says, unfazed. He points to Carlos with a big,
cocky smile. “You are quick with the comebacks, amigo.”
Carlos flicks Tuck’s finger away. “I’m not your amigo, asshole.”
Tuck’s cell phone rings. He slides it out of his pants and says, “I’ll
be right there,” then shrugs and says to me, “Well, I’m outta here. My
stepdad, Rick, is making me and Mom go to some stupid rope-knotting
class. Kiara, I’ll see you in school tomorrow.” He turns to Carlos. “See
you ’round, amigo.”
Tuck is out of sight in an instant, leaving me standing with Carlos in
the hallway. He steps in front of me. When Carlos has his attention
fixed on me, it’s very intimidating, whether he intends it or not. He’s
like a panther ready to pounce, or a vampire ready to suck the blood
out of anyone who stands in his way.
“By the way, I didn’t need paper. Your boy Tuck was right on. I was
snoopin’.” He walks back to his room, but turns to me before he closes
the door. “These walls are paper thin. You might want to remember
that the next time you and your boyfriend talk about me,” he says,
then slams his door shut.
SEVENTEEN : Carlos
In the evening, I’m summoned to the Professor’s home office. I
expect his wrath. Honestly, I want his wrath. If he or that judge at
the juvie courthouse thought bringin’ me here would reform me or
change me, guess again. It’s pure instinct that makes me rebel every
time someone tries to control my life and hand out more rules.
Professor Westford tents his fingers and leans forward in his
chair, which is facing the small couch I’m sitting on. “What do you want,
Carlos?” he asks.
Huh? I’m caught off guard here. I didn’t expect him to say that. I
want to go back to Mexico and continue living my life on my terms. Or
go back to Chicago, where my friends and cousins I grew up with are . .
. I sure as hell can’t tell him I’d like to bring mi papá back from the
dead.
Westford sighs when I don’t answer. “I know you’re a tough kid,” he
says. “Alex told me you got into some heavy stuff in Mexico.”
“So?”
“So I just want you to know that you can create a new life here,
Carlos. You started off on the wrong foot, but you can wipe the slate
clean and start new. Alex and your mother want the best for you.”
“Listen, Dick. Alex doesn’t know me.”
“Your brother knows you better than you think he does. And you’re
more alike than you want to believe.”
“You just met me. You don’t know me, either. And to be honest, I
don’t have much respect for you. You opened your home to a guy who
got arrested for drugs. How come you’re not afraid of havin’ me here?”
“You’re not the first kid I’ve helped, and you won’t be the last,” he
assures me. “And I should probably let you know that before I got my
doctorate in psychology I was in the military. I saw more death and
guns and bad guys than you’ll ever see in your life. I might have gray
hair on my head, but I’m just as tough as you are when I have to be. I
think we can work together. Now, let’s get back to why I called you
down here. What is it that you want?”
I better say somethin’ to get him off my back. “To go back to
Chicago.”
Westford leans back. “Okay.”
“What’dya mean ‘okay’?”
He puts his hands up. “I mean ‘okay.’ You follow my house rules until
winter break, and I’ll get you to Chicago for a visit. I promise.”
“I don’t believe in promises.”
“Well, I do. And I don’t break them. Ever. Now, enough serious talk
for tonight. Relax and make yourself at home. Watch some TV if you
want.”
Instead, I head
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