Nova quirked an eyebrow. “What’re the job requirements?”
“Stay young forever. Stay hopeful.” Carlo stretched back out on the floor and stared at the ceiling as if pondering it. “To laugh when you’re happy and cry when you’re sad. You have to keep your soul. Somehow you have to hold on to it. That’s the requirement.”
“I’m probably fucked,” Nova observed drily.
“Yup,” Carlo agreed. “You probably are.”
Chapter Fifteen
“We have a successful chess club here at St. Francis.”
“I’m aware.” Nova’s voice was clipped, as if the administrator was rubbing salt into an already painful wound. “But I don’t play chess anymore.”
“You were a state champion. It seems a shame—”
“I’m not interested. Sorry.”
“Well, the math team—”
“Not interested.”
“If you plan to apply for college, you’ll need extracurricular activities, and from your records, it looks like that was something you were working toward.”
Tino winced, deciding he couldn’t help Nova with his geek problems. He went back to reading a new Dragon Ball manga, a signed collector’s edition. Nova went into Manhattan to buy it while Tino was still in the Moretti basement/hospital recovering, and Tino knew it probably cost more money than they could spare with Romeo’s mounting legal bills.
It was one of those rare indulgences, especially considering any manga in English were rare. Tino was trying to read without creasing the spine, which resulted in him sliding down in the chair and lifting it up, peering between the pages he was carefully holding a few inches apart to see the words. It wasn’t the easiest way to read, but he was so fucking excited to have it he was willing to endure.
This interview with Nova was taking for-fucking-ever!
Thank God he’d told Tino to take the book.
Tino just read, ignoring the other students in the office, and stopped paying attention to Nova’s discussion in the other room. For all the lines and lines of ADHD shit in that file they were probably looking over right now, Tino could block out the world if he was interested in something.
Nova called it hyperfocus.
His mother used to call it optional hearing.
Romeo would usually just hit the back of his head until he looked up.
“Hey, fanook.”
Tino turned the page, careful of the spine, and squinted through one eye to see better.
When his crutches fell over, Tino glanced at the two guys who sat down next to him. They were both blond, preppy, with designer clothes and braces. Thank God Tino’s teeth were coming in straight. It was a sure bet if they weren’t, Frankie wasn’t going to fucking pay for it. He ran his tongue over his teeth when he thought about it, feeling the two gaps on the sides where he’d lost teeth right before Romeo got arrested. Please, dear God, let those fuckers come in straight like Nova’s.
“We’re talking to you, succhiacazzi.”
Tino quirked an eyebrow and then looked the other direction, to see if they were really talking to him.
“Are you stupid, guinea?”
Since Tino was the only Siciliano in hearing distance who was going to take personal offense to that, he closed his book and turned back to them. “For real? We’re doing this?”
The bigger one got in real close, too close, like he had missed the personal-bubble speech in kindergarten. Then he whispered in Tino’s ear. “I know who you are, piccolo succhiacazzi.”
“Who am I?” Tino didn’t flinch away from him. He just stayed in his face and made his voice sort of low and sultry in the same way this guy did. “Oh, please tell me. Who do you think I am?”
“I think you’re the puttana who’s gonna be licking my boots for the next four years. Do you want me to translate that for you?” He glanced down at Tino’s feet. “Nice cast. It suits you, princess.”
Tino laughed in his face.
Neither of them seemed to know how to reply to Tino’s level of amusement. Both boys were completely speechless. As if they actually expected Tino to go along with their bullshit.
“Preferirei mangiare merda piuttosto che leccare i tuoi stivali,” Tino said slowly and then raised his eyebrows when he saw neither of them fully understood him. “Do you want me to translate it for you, cretino?”
“Valentino.”
Tino looked at his brother, who was leaning against the other side of the desk. “Yeah?”
“They need you to take the placement tests.” Nova narrowed his eyes as he studied the larger blond, who was still all up in Tino’s personal space. “Making friends?”
“Yup.” Tino leaned down to grab his crutches, taking care not to bend his book, and then said in Italian, “For a school that’s supposed to be ninety percent Italian, the teacher must fucking suck. This bitch just called me a cocksucker. Badly. If he’s gonna toss it around, he should say it right.” He turned around and glared at the guy, studying him for a second, and then said to his brother, “I think he wants a date.”