Nova jumped at him again, but Tino reached out and grabbed his arm. “Come on, Nova. I’m the one who did it.”
Nova turned on Tino and punched him, catching him off guard, nearly knocking him off his feet when he was still unstable. He was suddenly really scared to see his ankle. One punch and he was almost on his ass again.
Though he supposed he deserved the sucker punch.
“We don’t have any benefits, and you jumped?” Nova screamed at him in Italian. “What if you’d busted your ass, genius?”
What if?
Tino did bust his ass.
Badly.
“Oye,” Jorgie called out to them, and Tino turned to see the white social-worker car they knew so well, followed by not one but two police cars.
“Oh fuck,” Nova whispered.
Tino’s breath caught, and he felt guilty for the silent prayer he sent up pleading that DCF was there for another family. Not like they were the only family on the street being hounded. Another special benefit of living in their section of East Harlem—the government fucking with things that weren’t broken and ignoring the things that were.
Nova reached down and helped Paco up, patting his back in concern that seemed genuine. “Are you okay?”
Maybe because Paco’s family was one of those under the microscope, and Nova likely felt guilty for saying the same silent prayer Tino had.
“I’m okay.” Paco hit Nova’s arm, giving him a wan smile. “It’s good. I shouldn’t have told him to jump. Sorry, bro.”
And Tino realized they all felt guilty.
All the teenagers who stood on that street, looking at those cop cars, knowing someone was going away tonight if they wanted to or not. This wasn’t an ordinary visit. Someone’s guardian was dead or in jail or had lost their job.
The list of reasons they could get taken away was endless.
And Tino’s heart was thundering so hard he temporarily forgot about the ankle issue. Everyone else on the street blended into the woodwork, heading back to their buildings. Jorgie and Paco went for the ladder Nova left down, but Tino and Nova just stood there in the street.
Maybe because both of them knew.
They knew it was for them.
Tino wasn’t sure why he knew, but he did and Nova did too.
They stayed there and let everyone else make a getaway. Even if they looked the most ridiculous, both of them barefooted and bare-chested, still wearing their karate pants from class earlier, standing on the backstreet at midnight.
Nova still had a bloody nose.
Tino hurt his ankle making a jump he hadn’t needed to make.
They should’ve stayed upstairs playing chess.
“Thank God you made a run for it,” Nova whispered next to him and wiped at his face. “They would’ve busted me smoking.”
There was that.
Hopefully the window being open was enough to air it out.
Why the fuck did Nova need to smoke?
Probably the same reason Tino needed to jump.
A part of them had just been born bad. They could thank the parent who should not be named for that. Poor Romeo, stuck with them for half brothers.
God, please don’t let him be dead.
“Maybe we should just run,” Tino mused, fantasizing about running away before those cops and social worker could tell him something he didn’t want to hear.
Yeah, he needed to run.
He made the move to do it, but unfortunately, that move was on his bad ankle, and he choked back a shout. “Motherfucker.” He hopped onto his good foot, his eyes almost rolling back from the pain he wasn’t prepared for. He came up with a long list of expletives that started with, “Shit. Fuck. Merda,” and ended with him bent over, pulling up his pants and squinting at his ankle in the darkness. “Suck my fat hairy one. Cazzo.”
“What did you just say?” Nova growled, giving him a look of disbelief. “Romeo will shit if he hears you talking about someone sucking your fat hairy one. Then he’s gonna blame me. Like it’s my fucking fault you talk like you do.”
“Look at this.” Tino pulled his pants up farther, showing off the bump sticking out above his ankle like a bone was trying to push its way out. “Is it supposed to look like that?”
Nova stared down at his leg and then choked in horror. “Fuck.”
“Right?” Tino glanced up at his brother. “Looks like I have two ankles. This is bad, huh? Did I break it? Is it broken, Casanova?”
Nova shook his head, still staring at Tino’s ankle. “I—”
“Moretti?”
They looked up when a woman stepped off the curb, eyeing both of them hesitantly. This wasn’t their usual social worker, and she clarified, “Casanova and Valentino Moretti?”
“Yeah.” Nova wiped at his bleeding nose again. He went ahead and wiped it on his pants, but it just made him look worse, with a big red smear of blood down the side of his white pants. “How, um, how did you know?”
Nova seemed casual, but Tino could hear the panic in his voice.
“Have you been attacked?”
“What?” Nova asked, still sounding disoriented.