“Yeah. I just need to talk to Slate.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” Her term of endearment was genuine—unlike my biological mom, who was cuddled into Ray’s chest, playing the role of a distraught and concerned mother.
A second later, Slate came on the line. “What’s going on, Till?”
“Listen, I need a huge favor. I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate. But . . .” I began to nervously toy with my bottom lip. “Look, my little brother Quarry’s been skipping school, and the police are here, and . . . Is there any way you could make an exception and allow him into the program at ten instead of twelve? Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll work his hours if I have to. I’m just not sure what else to do to keep this from getting reported to social services. We just got off their radar. I can’t have—”
Slate cut me off as I started to ramble. “Slow down and just take a breath. I’ll take him. It’s no big deal.”
I let out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. I’ll do whatever you need.”
“Is he big like you and Flint?”
I smiled and shook my head. Slate was always thinking about boxing. He trained everyone regardless of his size, but since he was a heavyweight himself, we were his favorites.
“He will be.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Okay, bring him in and I’ll get him set up this afternoon. He can start in the morning.”
“Thank you so much, Slate. Hey, I think the officer wants to talk to you for a minute? Is that okay?”
“Yep. Put him on. I’ll see you in a few.”
I passed the phone over and turned my attention to my mom. “I’m gonna let the boys sleep at my place tonight. I’ll take Q to the gym in the morning.”
“Okay, this is a great plan, Till. Are you going to need me to sign the release forms like I did with Flint?”
I blatantly rolled my eyes.
She didn’t sign those fucking forms when Flint turned twelve and entered the program a few months after I did. They’d sat on the counter for a week before I had forged Dad’s name and taken them back myself.
“I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do something so strenuous. I’ll do it.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“Don’t be silly. You’re not his parent.” She smiled and moved even closer to Ray.
I lifted my eyebrows and crossed my arms over my chest “Well, that makes two of us then, because neither are you. Just because you gave birth to him does not make you his parent. Boys, get your stuff. I’ll meet you outside.” I headed out the door, and the officer followed me without another word for my mom.
“Okay, Till. You need keep him out of trouble and in class from here on out. Mr. Andrews speaks highly of you. Don’t let this happen again, or the next officer might not be willing to lose the paperwork.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
He nodded then headed down the stairs.
The door was barely closed after the boys came out of it, when I heard the deadbolt click from the inside.
“Is the cop gone yet?” Quarry asked, looking out at the parking lot just as the police car pulled away. “Oh, thank God. I thought he was gonna follow us to the gym.” He turned back to the front door.
“Where the hell are you going?” I grabbed his book bag, forcing him to stumble backward.
“I’m not cleaning that gym. You and Flint enjoy mopping the floors, great. But I’m not doin’ it!” he declared, shrugging out of the straps on his bag.
“Fine. You’re right. Everyone deserves to make their own choices.” I took a menacing step forward. With my hands planted firmly on my hips, I bent at the waist and leaned down to his level. “Either you walk your ass to On The Ropes or I will carry your ass to On The Ropes. But in the next five minutes and then every single day after that, your ass will be at On The fucking Ropes.” I narrowed my eyes. “So, what’s it going to be, Q?”
He didn’t drop the attitude, but he did have the good sense not to smart off. Flint was innocently watching our showdown. Quarry’s eyes found him as he seemingly weighed his options. I fully expected Flint to chime in an attempt to keep the peace, but he remained surprisingly silent. Finally, Quarry turned and headed down the stairs.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to say ‘fucking’ to kids,” he mumbled.
As he passed me, I reached out and smacked him on the back of the head. “Don’t fucking cuss.”
“Riiiight,” he drawled sarcastically, which caused Flint to laugh as he jogged down the stairs behind him.
“DOODLE?” TILL CALLED FROM MY bedroom window while Justin Timberlake was blaring through the small speakers of my stereo.
“I’m in here!”
“Doodle?” he yelled again.
I rolled my eyes. Wiping my hands on a towel, I walked to my bedroom. “What?”
“Oh good! You’re home. You didn’t answer through the floor.” He grimaced as he rubbed his shoulder.