I nod. “That would be great. Amazing, really.” I smile, and then I’m beaming. I can’t seem to help myself. “This really makes my day. Like…you have no idea.”
He winks. “Not a problem, Elise.”
I notice again that his eyes is swollen. I almost ask him about it, but he asks, “So you good now? You feel good walking back to your class?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Thank you.”
He gives me another strange look…like a smile, but with only his eyes. And he says, “You don’t need to.”
I watch him walk down the hall for a long time before I turn back toward the office. And I think about him for the rest of the day.Chapter FourLucaThe part about the dry cleaners was a lie. I don’t know why I told her that shit. Actually, I do: because I wanted to make her happy. I wanted her to let me take the bear. So I acted like my dad owns Diamond’s place, like it’s no big deal for me to take care of it.
When I get to Red Hook at 5:30, I swing by The Shoe Store, check in with Dad, then head toward Diamond’s Dry Cleaners.
Diamond—Tony Diamond—is a prick. When I was a kid, I knew him as Alesso’s big brother. Tony is ten years older than us, so at one point, we thought he hung the moon.
Incorrect.
Tony is an asshole and a loose cannon. Now that Tony does Roberto Arnoldi’s bidding, every interaction with him carries some risk. Ever since things went bad between Roberto and my dad—and it was Dad’s fault—we’ve been in a vulnerable position. With the store. With the debt. Tony knows all that shit, and sometimes he likes to try to play enforcer. I’m biting on the inside of my cheek as I approach the cleaners, one of dozens of storefronts along Van Brunt Street.
With any luck, Diamond will be playing Xbox above Matt Russo’s pawn shop on the next block down, and I can get help from one of the assistant managers. They’re all closer to my age than his, all from the neighborhood. Most of them are female, so that doesn’t hurt.
The red and white striped “Diamond’s” awning looks dull in the afternoon light. It’s cloudy today, probably going to rain later. I pass by Lisa Faye’s, the pizza place, and wince at the smell. I’m starving. Then I catch a glimpse of Tony’s fat ass through the glass door of Diamond’s, and my stomach does a quick flip.
That’s my luck, man. Tony’s never here. It only takes me a second to decide to hoof it to the next dry cleaners down—it’s pragmatic to avoid him, even if it’s a walk. But just then Tony straightens up and looks right through the glass door at me like he heard my fucking thoughts.
He grins like a hyena, and before I can beat it, he’s pushing the door open, and I’m hit with his weird, Diamond schtick.
“Howya doing, Bowsie Bow?” He lunges onto the sidewalk toward me, his big hand clasping my shoulder too hard, like we’re long lost friends and he can’t help himself. Except, of course, we’re something very different and I’m sure he knows I fucking hate it.
“Diamond.” I give him a nod, trying to keep from gritting my teeth at the sensation of his fingertips biting into my shoulder. “What’s up?”
“You tell me,” he says. “Still going to that rich boy school?”
I nod, my lips pressed flat. Tony likes to poke you where he thinks it hurts. When we were kids, he wasn’t like this, but his father was. When old man Diamond kicked it, Alesso and I were in sixth grade; Tony was twenty-two and really into gaming. He wanted to get a job making the CG part of video games, but Mrs. Diamond pushed him to take over the store. That’s how he got into what he’s into these days.
“They treating you right?” he asks me. “You still got that Bowser T-shirt?”
He gives my shoulder another slight shake before letting me go.
“Grew out of it,” I say calmly. Ever since this summer, he’s been asking me about that Super Mario shirt. It’s weird because the shirt is years and years old. I’ve grown a foot since I wore it, and I think Diamond knows that. I have to assume he’s just making sure I know the pecking order.
“Too bad. That was a cool shirt.”
“Yeah, love some Bowser.”
He looks down at what I’m holding. “Whacha got there?”
There’s a moment where I have a choice. I could try to extricate myself from this shit with him, but I don’t—because I know Diamond. Dude is fucking weird now. If I try to keep the bear away from him, I think he’ll grab it and look for himself. Better in the end to be direct.
“I’ve got a bear to dry clean.”