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Authors: James Fuerst

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“It’s called a
motive,”
I specified, “and if you’re gonna conjure one up for Razor out of thin air, then you damn well better dazzle me with it.”

“Conjure?” Darren laughed. “Dude, no matter how much Razor
says
he’s gonna quit football, he totally
can’t
. He’s roughed up too many younger brothers and sisters of kids in high school, and he’ll be dead meat on his own without his jock buds getting his back. Nobody rocks the mic solo in the big HS and lives to tell about it, little dude,” he declared. “You gotta roll deep twenty-four-seven, or your ass is destined for toast. It’s like a natural law and shit.”

“So you really expect me to believe that Razor’s become this out-of-control menace because he’s a confused, unlikable kid who doesn’t
know where or how to fit in? That is the
weakest
shit I have
ever
fucking heard.”

“Stow that mess, little dude. People’ve told
you
the same thing like a million times and shit.”

Okay, maybe they had. But I knew we were talking about Razor, not me, so I wasn’t gonna let him befuddle me into thinking otherwise. From what I knew about the hit at the retirement home, however, I could see that it wouldn’t necessarily take two people to pull it off, if the one person who’d done it happened to have a moped, like Razor did. All he’d have to do is stand on top of the seat, commit the crime, and then crank the engine and be gone. Worse still, a different picture of
all
the crimes was rapidly forming in my punch-addled head, a picture that had a spoiled and desperate Razor stealing money from the home to pay for steroids to up his chances on the football team, tagging the front sign to try to steer the blame toward Darren and the crew, coercing Stacy into easing his supercharged hormones, and breaking the window at the black church because he was a sleazy, bigoted juice-hound who was losing every single bit of his perverse and feeble mind.

Then again, I wasn’t certain about any of it. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was starting to doubt some of the conclusions I’d drawn. “So what if Razor did it?” I shifted ground. “He’s still working for
you
anyway.”

“Sorry to disappoint, little dude, but that’s a negative, too. Me and the crew have zero tolerance for buzz assassins like Tommy and Razor. Besides, ever since Razor dropped by your
casa
the other day to try to press up on your sis, he and I have had beef.”

Maybe that’s why Neecey had stonewalled me; it was
exactly
the kind of thing that would’ve set me off. The tables were turning hard and fast. I had to try to swing them back in my favor. “All right, if all that’s true, and you’re not lying to me, then why the hell didn’t you do anything about it? And if you have such beef with him, then what were Razor and Tommy doing at your party tonight?”

“Dude, I said I
thought
Razor did it, but that I didn’t
know
for sure. And since nobody actually saw him do it or can like prove it or anything, there’s nothing anybody can do about it. You can’t just go
accusing
people because you don’t
like
them and shit.”

I realized Darren had aimed that last part at me, but it hit the mark anyway.

“And I didn’t invite them to the soiree either, little dude,” he went on, “they just bogarted it. But since they did, me and your sis were getting in Razor’s eye, like putting the heat on him and getting some payback for trespassing and trying to take liberties and all. But that’s when you came jetting in and dive-bombed his gonads and shit. By the way, that was fucking
awesome
,” Darren laughed. “Beyond bitchin’, little dude. Seriously.”

He leaned forward as far as he could from his seat on the sofa and stretched his hand toward me for a high five. I must’ve had a concussion or something, because I actually found myself starting to lean in that direction when the sound of Neecey’s voice snapped me back.

“Don’t you even
dare
, Genie! And what are you like high-fiving him for, Darren?”

Darren seemed every bit as shocked to discover that Neecey had been eavesdropping on our conversation from the other side of the door as I was. “I told you it was cool, Neece,” he said, frowning. “You didn’t have to go all dippin’.”

“Well, he’s
my
brother, and I’m like so glad I did or I never would’ve heard all the totally wrong and heinous things he just said about us.”

I was pissed and worried that Neecey had heard everything, but she’d given me an opening, maybe my last, so I jumped on it. “Oh, yeah? If they were so heinous and goddamn wrong, then why don’t you tell me about ‘the stuff’? I
heard
you talking about it on the phone
myself
, and how Darren would cut you off if you didn’t bring it. And you haven’t even
tried
to deny it.”

“Du-uu-ude,” Darren groaned,
“don’t
. Trust me.”

“You can
not
be serious,” Neecey hissed. “‘The stuff you think I was supposed to be all smuggling or whatever was
party decorations
.”

No, that was
not
the answer I’d been looking for. I shifted my eyes nervously to Darren.

He shrugged again, almost apologetically this time. “Yeah, little dude, it’s not a righteous party without the favors. And since you guys live closer to the supermarket, I fronted Neecey some ducats to pick the stuff up and bring it over, while me and the crew were out cashing in some solids to land the beverages.”

“The stuff was party decorations?” I asked meekly.

“To like ease your mind and shit,” Darren offered, “I score the cheeba from my cousin in Holmdel, totally free of charge. He grows it under a black light in his closet—”

“Darren.”

“Steady, Neece, it’s not like an invitation or anything. I’m just saying, is all.”

“Well, don’t, not in front of
him
. He’s only
twelve
.”

“Nuh-unh,” I mumbled, “I’m almost thirteen.”

“Duh!”
Neecey sniped. “Almost thirteen
is
twelve, Genie. And you’re like only twelve years old but you’re already a complete psycho who’s been left back for decking a teacher, and now you’re turning into this way scary stalker who eavesdrops on people and totally follows them, too. And that’s not funny, Genie, that’s
serious.”

I didn’t say anything to that, mostly because I was trying to figure out just how serious this was going to get.

“I’m not trying to butt in or whatever …” Darren hesitated.

“But …
.” Neecey rolled her eyes.

“It’s just, if the little dude earnestly thought you were jeopardizing your person or whatever, like he said, then you can’t majorly ream him for what he did. Dude junior just showed some extra vigilance and follow-through is all, like a badass younger bro’s supposed to.”

“How would
you
know what a younger brother is supposed to do,
Darren? You’re an
only child
. And why are you like sticking up for him? Didn’t you hear—”

“Chill, Neece. I totally heard what he said, but I’m like sticking up for him anyway.”

“But why?” Neecey asked, looking genuinely baffled.

“Because the little dude’s either all on his own or you and your moms got him so blanketed that he can’t like move and shit, so like who else is gonna do it?”

I guess Neecey wasn’t expecting Darren to say that—shit, neither was I—because a lot of the tension seemed to drain out of her and she didn’t say anything in return.

“I’m just saying there’s like another way to look at it that doesn’t chop the little dude down so much, is all. And for the record,” Darren addressed me while standing up, “I know you been grudging on me since I took your old bike, and that you’re totally against me seeing your sis because of it. I’m full-on sorry about that, little dude, because things should be way more copacetic between you and me. But I’m not wiggin’ on you for what you said and shit. Earnestly. It was a most wicked story you told, and I was way into hearing it.”

Fucking Darren. He was making it harder and harder for me to keep hating him.

“Where are you going?” Neecey asked as Darren made for the door.

“I gotta check on the damage the crew is wreaking on the homestead. But I can grab a fresh meat patch for the little dude’s eye jammy while I’m out there if you want.”

It was about then that I finally noticed the raw juices streaming down my face. “I don’t know where the hot dog got to,” I informed Neecey, “but he’s right. This thing is pretty much thawed. I’m not sure it’s doing much good, though, so don’t bother.”

“You know you need to put steak on a black eye so it’ll heal, Genie,” Neecey nagged.

“Yeah, but this is a hamburger, not a steak.”

“That’s chopped Black Angus sirloin you got on your mug, little dude,” Darren cut in, “the only thing my pops’ll grill. And sirloin is total steak, trust me.”

“But it’s
made
into a hamburger,” I said, “so it might not work the right way.”

“Genie, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Neecey proclaimed. “Darren’s getting you another one and you’re gonna wear it whether you want to or not.”

TWENTY-ONE

Darren’s departure had left Neecey and me alone
, all to ourselves, which was the absolute last place I wanted to be. Yeah, I’d fucked up royally this time, and with the way her eyes were burning holes in my face from across the room, it didn’t look like she was going to pass on the opportunity to tell me
all
about it. I couldn’t say I blamed her, but that wasn’t gonna make what was coming my way any easier to take, and any second now she was going to let me have it.

So I got ready for it. But it didn’t come. Instead, she sat down next to me on the sofa and put her arm around my shoulder. Then she said, “Close your eyes.”

“Why?” I didn’t know where she was going with this, and that made me nervous.

“Just do it.”

I did.

“Eyes closed?”

“Yeah.”

“Now, I want you to do me a favor.”

“What?” I gulped.

“I want you to clear your mind and try to imagine what it’s like for me to have a brother like
you.”

I couldn’t be sure where she’d learned that trick, but it was one of the nastiest she’d ever pulled on me, and I hadn’t been expecting it.
A brother like you
. Yeah, I’d heard her whining about what it was like so many times that I knew the litany by heart: how she’d been forced to babysit me for the past three years; how we were chained together at the hip, so she could hardly go anywhere or do anything without bringing me along; how she had to look out for me and clean up after me and make sure I had something to eat for dinner and that I brushed my teeth before I went to bed; and especially how mom held her responsible for me when she was at work, so when I got into trouble or a fight, Neecey always got yelled at and grounded, too. I knew all that, just like I knew I was draining every second of joy out of her otherwise carefree adolescence. But for some reason it stuck with me this time—
a brother like you
—and I had to swallow hard to keep from choking up.

“Tell me something, Genie.”

“W-what,” I croaked.

“Where are you supposed to be?”

She’d changed directions on me, and I was having trouble following. “What?”

“It’s an easy question. Where are you supposed to be?”

“Home.”

“Right. And who’s supposed to be watching you?”

“No one. I’m supposed to be watching myself.”

“Okay, so tell
me, genius
, if you’re supposed to be home watching yourself, then how are you going to explain that gnarly shiner of yours to mom?”

Cold shivers of panic ripped all the way through me, because I hadn’t thought of that yet, and I had
no idea
how I’d pull it off.

“Stop frowning, Genie, it makes you look simple.” Neecey sighed
heavily and continued, “I so can’t even
try
to help you this time. Mom’s going to slaughter you, completely slaughter you, and if I try to get involved I’ll be stuck babysitting you until I graduate, and there’s
nothing
I can do about like
any
of it.”

The gravity of it was sinking in fast; I’d hung us both. “So what are we going to tell her?” I asked.

“We
aren’t going to tell her anything, Genie—
you are. You
broke your promise to mom, not me, so you’re going to have to like face her
all by yourself
.”

I nodded. But just because I knew I’d have to face mom alone didn’t mean I was looking forward to it.

“You took the whole fucking cake this time, Genie,” she went on. “You realize that, don’t you?”

I guess I had.

“And you’re a totally untrusting piece of shit—you know that, too, right?”

I declined to respond.

“A dope-smuggling slut? Is that what you
really
think of me? And you even accused me of reading your journal? You know, sometimes you
really
suck.”

“But if you didn’t read it,” I braved the waters, “then how did you know about Stacy?”

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