I recoil. Jesus Christ. “There are kids all over the place. Do you really think that kind of language is appropriate?” Look at me, being all adult-like.
A long pause. Then he answers. “Screw off. Is that better?”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah. Thanks, man.” But I don’t leave. Something tells me to stay put. And then a minute later…
“I guess you can come in if you want.”
Yes! I’m fucking in! My smile fades. Great, once I open that door, what the hell comes next? What do I even say? I probably should have come up with something before showing up here.
But that’s never been the Max Oriani way.
Nope, I storm shit first, worry about it never.
I remember the last time I spoke those words.
Memories of Gabe come rushing back, and the guilt whirls around me like a funnel cloud. I can’t get sucked back into it again.
I am a good guy. I’m not a fucking monster. I can do the right thing.
Gabe’s blood is on my hands, but I won’t let it cripple me. I can help someone who really needs it. I can change things for myself. I don’t have to accept the hand I’ve been dealt. I can rise above it.
And that starts here and now.
I twist the handle on the door and push it open to find a kid reclined against a bunch of pillows. He has longish dark hair that looks like it hasn’t been combed in about a month, and he’s wearing dark blue sweats. I look around the room. No flowers or balloons or stuffed animals. He doesn’t even have the television on. It’s just him and an iPad in his hands. He doesn’t even look up when I walk into the room. He just keeps tapping the screen and grunting under his breath.
I place my bag on the floor and…nothing. I have no idea what the hell to do next. He doesn’t even know he doesn’t know me yet because he won’t look up from the game.
He stabs the screen for a few more seconds before his gaze darts in my direction. “Cool sneakers. I wanted a pair, and saved up for months. Then my mother found my stash and stole it so she could get high.” He finally looks up at me, his mouth twisted into a grimace. “I never asked anyone for anything. I earned that money doing crappy little jobs around the neighborhood, and she took it. I just wanted a good pair of sneakers so the kids at school wouldn’t make fun of me anymore. But she didn’t care about that...or me. She only cared about partying, and now she’s in jail. And I’m here. Alone with my cancer.” He narrows his dark eyes at me. “Do you know how badly life sucks for me right now?”
My jaw drops. I can’t even stop it. Sloane told me that he’s twelve. Twelve years old and on his own dealing with a disease that could potentially kill him before his next birthday. Anger courses through me. I’d like to find that mother of his and swing my baseball bat a few times in her direction. “Dude, I’m sorry…” My voice trails off because what the hell else can I say to make it better?
Absolutely nothing.
“Who are you, anyway?” He puts the iPad down and looks me up and down. “And seriously, what’s with the Grim Reaper look? I’m not dying, am I?” He lets out a dry laugh. “Well, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”
I crack a smile. “I’m a friend of one of your nurses. She said something about one of her patients being really into Fortnite, and since I’m a pretty incredible player myself, I figured maybe would could team up and kick some as…er, some butt together.”
He’s silent for a long minute, sizing me up with each passing second. I’m not used to this kind of examination by a kid. Usually punks are trying to size me up to see how much weight I can pack into a punch. They never guess right, either, the fucking morons.
“I only play solo.”
“You ever get a Victory Royale on your own?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, about sixty. Not bad.”
My eyes pop open wide and my jaw is on the floor yet again. It’s a record for me. “Sixty? Are you fu…are you serious? That’s like pro, my man.” I ball up my fist and hold it out to give him a bump.”
He rolls his eyes. “Relax. It’s only okay.”
I love this kid already.
“So, which nurse are you friends with?” He grabs a cup of water from the nightstand and takes a long sip.
“Um, her name is Sloane. She’s really sweet, has long brown hair, usually wears it in a bun, smiles a lot. You know her?”
Eli nods. “Yeah, she came in the other day when my brother Tommy was here. She’s hot. You messing around with her?”
“Dude! Discretion. Do you kiss and tell?”