Later that afternoon, the house was quiet. Leo's dad was in the garage, and his mom was back in the attic. Leo sat on the back porch steps, staring at his shoes, feeling the sting of the failed driving lesson.
The screen door creaked. Sloane slid out and sat beside him, her shoulder brushing his. She didn't look at him with pity. She looked at him like they were two soldiers in a trench.
"Don't sweat the truck, Leo-Lion," she said, her voice a low, comforting hum. "Driving is for people who want to go places. I want to teach you how to survive the place you're already in."
Leo looked up, mesmerized. "How?"
"I forgot to give you a trick for the next time Miller or those other losers decide to hunt you," she said. She leaned in closer, the scent of her vanilla perfume wrapping around him like a blanket.
"If they're chasing you, don't just run until you run out of breath. Use their momentum against them."
Leo listened, hanging on every word.
"You trip," she whispered, her eyes dancing with a dark kind of fun. "You fall to the ground like you made a mistake. Make it look real. Make them think they've finally caught the 'pussy.' And when they move in close to stand over you... when they think they've won..."
She mimicked a sharp, upward motion with her hand.
"You kick. Hard. Right in the balls. You don't stop until you hear them gasp for air they can't find."
She pulled back and gave him a slow, conspiratorial wink. "It''s the great equalizer, Leo. It doesn't matter how big they are if they can't stand up."
Leo felt a rush of heat—fulfillment, power, and adoration—wash over him. He wasn't stunned by the violence; he was stunned that someone finally gave him a way to fight back. He felt like he had just been handed a superpower.
*****
Leo stood by the school gate with Maya. She was the only person who didn't call him "Twitch" or "Pussy." When she looked at him, he felt like a regular person, not a freak.
"Maya?" Leo asked, kicking at a loose stone. "Is it... is it weird that I have a babysitter? The guys in the back of the class were laughing about it today."
Maya looked at him. Truthfully, she thought 13 was a little old for a babysitter, but she saw the look in Leo's eyes—the softness, the fear of being judged. She couldn't bring herself to say it. "No, Leo," she said gently, touching his arm. "It's not weird. It's just... unique. Don't listen to them."
Suddenly, the air was filled with the thumping bass of a loud song. A polished, bright red sports car roared toward the curb.
"Oh no," Maya sighed, her face falling.
"That's my dad. Ever since he bought that car, he thinks he owns the road. He hasn't let me hear the end of it." She looked at Leo and felt a wave of pity. "Wait here. We live right across the street from you—I'll ask him to give you a ride so you don't have to wait for the bus."
Maya ran to the car and leaned into the window. Leo saw her pointing at him, her expression pleading. Her dad, a man with a heavy gold watch and an arrogant scowl, didn't even get out. He just leaned over the passenger seat and shouted through the window.
"Wassup, Leo!" the man yelled, his voice dripping with mock friendliness. "Will your mommy get angry if you take the school bus today?"
Leo blinked, startled. "No, sir..."
"Then go and take the fucking school bus, man!" the dad barked. He let out a sharp, mean laugh and revved the engine, making the tires screech.
Maya looked horrified. She mouthed "I'm so sorry" and gave him a hand sign—a thumb and pinky to her ear—meaning I'll call you. Then the car peeled away, leaving Leo standing in a cloud of exhaust and humiliation.