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  Abruptly, I stopped thinking about the past and concentrated on the present. I was nearing my school. I gathered myself together, mentally getting ready. Appearance was important. I had to have the look that told my classmates I was ready to take on anything. Rico called it a form of self-defense.

  The moment I stepped on campus, a clica of Lobos girls swarmed around me, their bodies crowding against mine as their threats streamed into the muggy air.

  “La muerta is what we call you in our neighborhood.” Gatita leaned so close her hair tickled over my face. “La difunta. You’re a dead girl.”

  Ignoring her, I continued forward, pushing my way past girls who wore the same school uniform as I did—gray skirt, white blouse, and gray sweater—but still found ways to flaunt their gang allegiance in their woven bracelets, silver rings, and the razor-thin eyebrows arched high on their foreheads.

  “The tiros are going to get you.” Gatita pointed her index finger at my temple. “Pum! You go with our puta enemy Core 9 and we go after you.”

  The 3Ts had warned me that enemy gang members, especially girls from the Lobos, would try to intimidate me and keep me from joining Core 9.

  Gatita kicked my shin and, though the pain felt hot, I smiled.

  “Fue nada, su patada, little kitty cat,” I said, making fun of her gang name while telling her in the best Spanish I could muster that her kick was nothing.

  She held up her hand, her fingers splayed to show me the lethal-looking silver rings. The sharp edges on a wolf head glistened in the morning sun. “Maybe you need a scar on your pretty face to match the ones I put on your arm.”

  Whistles shrilled and two armed security guards raced toward us.

  “Snitches get stitches,” Gatita warned, slipping her hands into her sweater pockets before she and her homegirls strolled away.

  I grinned at the guards, who gave me sour looks before I headed off in the opposite direction, focused on finding my friends.

  The 3Ts stood close to the school entrance, watching me, their eyes like stones. Tara started down the steps, Twyla and Tanya behind her. They wore their skirts nine inches shorter than regulation, but the teachers never bothered them about the length.

  The other students shifted out of their way, careful around Tara, who liked to fight.

  “Hey, Blaise,” Tara said, pinching a cigarette from her pocket. A splotch of makeup covered the tattoo on the web between her index finger and thumb, where her homegirls had inked C9 into her skin. She had to cover it for school so she wouldn’t get expelled, but on the street she flaunted it, like I would if I earned mine.

  She lit the cigarette, then offered me the first drag, a sign of respect.

  I put the cigarette between my lips but didn’t inhale. When I handed it back, she said, “What’s up with you?”

  “Yeah, you should be strutting over the way you handled those girls.” Twyla brushed back the purple tendrils clipped into her hair with butterfly barrettes. Her nose, crooked at the end, had scars from her jump-in when she’d joined Core 9.

  “I’m worried about my grandmother,” I said. “She’s working herself to death because of me.”

  “We’ve all felt like burdens,” Tanya said, her face sympathetic. “Give Tara a yes and after the jump-in, you’ll become part of our family. Then, you’ll never be alone, and even if something does happen to your grandmother, we’ll take care of you.”

  Tara smiled, sensing my indecision. “I can promise you this,” she said, smoke unfurling from her nostrils. “Life gets better when you’re ganged up.”

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  4

  At the end of the school day, I hurried out to the curb, where the music from the slow-moving cars battered the heat. Guys riding low in the seats cast brutal glances at their enemies, their faces closing in blank expressions as they drove past the police. I threaded my way through the traffic, the exhaust too noxious to breathe, and joined Melissa, Ariel, and Kaylee, who were waiting for me a block away.

  “We’re going over to Trek’s.” Melissa grinned exultantly. “He invited me to his house.”

  “Then why are we going?” I asked, watching Kaylee to see if she was upset. She was smiling a little too broadly for someone who hated Trek.

  “The three of you are coming along to make sure I don’t do anything stupid,” Melissa said as we started walking. “The idea is to bait Trek, not give it all up now.”

  “It’s a bad idea,” Kaylee said, running her fingers through her hair. She’d added another streak of red to her bangs, which were almost as long as mine. “Trek’s going to be unhappy that we tagged along.”

  Melissa stopped suddenly. “Don’t ruin this for me, Kaylee.”

  “Me?” Kaylee rolled the word out.

  “You trashed him last night,” Ariel reminded her as we started forward again.

  “I was drunk,” Kaylee snapped. “I have the headache to prove it.”

  “One piece of advice,” I said, to break the tension.

  Melissa glanced at me. “What?”

  “Don’t sing,” I said.

  Ariel snickered. “Seriously, don’t even hum.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Melissa said. Teasing us, she broke into a love song.

  Even Kaylee laughed and shook her head. “That is so totally off-key.”

  Melissa stopped singing as we neared Trek’s home, a narrow, two-story brick house that had no trees in front, only stumps where maple trees had once grown.

  Dante stood in the doorway, puffing on a cigarette, trying to look tough, though everyone knew he was on the outs with Trek. When he saw us, he strolled off the porch, his jeans, belted below his hipbones, showing off his paisley boxers. The rutted scar on his cheek wasn’t a wound. He had tried to carve C9 into his skin when he was twelve. He took a long drag and exhaled toward the street. The gesture, as insignificant as a blink, signaled to anyone inside that we looked harmless, no weapons drawn, no danger from guys hiding nearby who were using us as a decoy.

  Omar stepped onto the porch. Bulked out with muscles, he seemed even bigger next to Dante, who led us up the front steps and took my purse.

  Without greeting me, Omar held his tattooed palms in front of my face. The fingers on his strong hand, the one he used to fire a gun, were callused, which told me he did a lot of dry fire, gun practice without ammunition. He slowly turned his hands to show me that he was going to use the backsides to frisk me. Even so, his touch startled me. I winced as his hands slid over my breasts, into my armpits, and onto my back.

  Dante pulled the hammer from my purse, excitement darting into his eyes. “Did you ever use it?”

  “Once.” The memory still made my stomach slide. A doper had surprised my grandmother in the garage, and when she had refused to let go of her purse, he had knocked her to the ground and stomped on her wrist. Only nine years old, I had grabbed the nearest tool, a hammer, the one I carried with me now. I had swung it at his thigh, then his knee. When he had turned on me, I’d held the hammer with both hands and hit his face.

  “You get the hammer back when you leave,” Dante said, regarding me with new interest and respect. He placed it on the porch, then motioned Kaylee forward.

  “No way,” she snapped.

  “Kaylee, you promised,” Melissa groaned.

  “I’m not letting him look in my purse,” Kaylee argued.

  “Don’t start, Kaylee,” Ariel warned.

  “We’re not going to debate it,” Omar said indifferently. “Leave if you don’t want to be searched.”

  I didn’t glance back to see if Kaylee had left because Omar kneeled in front of me, his face to the side. His hands ran under my skirt, knuckles scraping over my legs, checking for weapons taped to the inside of my thighs.

  “Blaise can go in,” Omar announced as he stood and began frisking Melissa, who recoiled from his to
uch.

  When Dante opened the front door, I glanced back. Ariel was staring angrily at Kaylee, who stood at the corner, hands on her hips in a defiant stance, her shaggy hair tousled in the wind. My heart dropped. No, Kaylee. This was not the time for her antics. She did things on a whim, thinking she was funny, and never considered the consequences. She flashed a cocky grin and turned away as Dante nudged me.

  I stepped inside, the brightness in the living room forcing me to squint. Sunlight reflected off the mirrored tabletops, the weapons on the couch, and the glass in the framed pictures of dead homeboys that lined the wall.

  From overhead, the sound of wind chimes caught my attention. Seashells, glass, and metal tubes tied to the upstairs railing swirled and clattered as Trek walked down the stairs, clean-shaven and smelling of soap, his waist-length hair slicked back and held at the nape of his neck. He had no scars, no tattoos, no piercings, and everything I wanted: cars, money, respect, and a big reputation.

  His eyes, the blackest I had ever seen, never looked at me. His gaze danced past me and settled on Melissa, who had just walked inside.

  “Hi,” she whispered shyly, tilting her head so that her silken hair fell to one side.

  Trek kissed her cheek. “Hey, babe.” He nuzzled her ear, his arm sliding around her. “Let me get you a beer.”

  I waited for Ariel, then together we followed Trek and Melissa into the windowless kitchen, where tubs of muscle-building protein powders crowded the counter. Trek popped the tabs on two beers and handed one to Melissa, completely ignoring Ariel and me.

  “I guess this is how it feels to be part of someone’s entourage,” I said, bumping awkwardly against Ariel, not sure what to do until I glanced at the back porch and saw two pit bull puppies inside a cardboard box. The smallest popped her white head over the side, her thick paws scratching to get out.

  “Puppies,” I whispered, prodding Ariel toward the porch. “Look how cute.” I picked up the smallest and set her on my shoulder, the puppy’s fat belly warm on my neck, her sticky tongue licking my ear.

  “Don’t get attached,” Ariel warned in a hushed tone while scratching the puppy’s back. “Trek’s probably going to train them to kill.”

  “He can’t. They’re too sweet.” I set the puppy in with her sister and sat on the floor, resting my hands on the edge of the box, slowly becoming aware of a clicking sound. My stomach clenched as my eyes shot to the corner, where Kaylee sat on a bag of kibble, smiling smugly, snapping the blade of a box cutter in and out of its plastic casing.

  “This is so not funny, Kaylee,” Ariel hissed, dropping to the floor beside her. “Why did you sneak inside?”

  “I wasn’t going to let those guys touch me,” Kaylee said, looking pleased with herself.

  I turned to see if Trek had noticed her. He appeared oblivious to anyone but Melissa, who was crowding him against the kitchen counter. She looked down at the floor and smiled too brightly at whatever he was whispering into her ear, then glanced up at him and laughed, her finger gliding over his belt before she pulled back and waited for him to put his arm around her, which he did.

  “You’re lucky Trek’s so into Melissa,” I said. “He hasn’t seen you.”

  “I’m sure Trek’s into lots of girls,” Kaylee smirked.

  “Go,” Ariel whispered harshly. “Leave. You were stupid to—jeez.” Ariel exhaled. “Too late now.”

  Trek crouched beside me, his hand on my knee. A pleasant shiver raced over me, my body overreacting to the warmth of his fingers on my skin. I glanced at him, but he didn’t seem aware that he was touching me. He was grinning at Kaylee, who glared back at him.

  “Are you here to return the silver lighter you stole from me last night?” he asked, unruffled. When she didn’t reply, he added, “You break into my house and then you mad-dog me like I did something wrong. What’s up with that?”

  “Maybe I wanted to show my friends that you’re not so special.” Kaylee stood and walked out, the door slamming behind her and setting off the wind chimes.

  I drew in a breath and stared at Ariel, who looked as panicked as I felt, but Trek remained calm.

  “Now you see why I need guard dogs?” He laughed before he said to me, “Seems like the dogs got you hooked already. I don’t have much time for them. Do you want to earn some extra cash taking care of them for me?”

  I did. Of course I did. But that meant going to Trek’s house every day, alone. Was I ready for that? I started to make up excuses when the puppies whimpered, their faces nudging against my hands and, to my surprise, I heard myself say, “Sure.”

  The moment I agreed, Trek’s eyes shifted. I had the eerie feeling that he had planned this. I brushed the thought away. What could he want with me when he had Melissa?

  He patted my leg. “I’ll get Omar to explain the rules about the doors and fix you up with a schedule. No surprise visits,” he warned.

  As soon as he returned to Melissa, Ariel whispered, “Why wasn’t Trek more pissed about Kaylee breaking into his house?”

  I stared at the small crescent marks on my knee where his fingernails had dug into my skin. “Maybe he was but didn’t show it because of Melissa.”

  Ariel stared at the door. “How’d Kaylee get inside anyway?”

  I shrugged. “The door must have been open.”

  “We have to drop her,” Ariel said. “Seriously.”

  “She’s our friend,” I protested.

  “That’s my point exactly,” Ariel said. “She’s going to pull us down.”

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  5

  Trek named the dogs Skull and Bones, but I called them Pixie and Bonnie. I fed them before school and again in the afternoon, sometimes playing with them through the evening. This morning, Melissa had come with me, her eyes brightening as she told me about all the things that Trek had bought for her. I could smell the newness of her sweater and the tang of her lemon-scented lotion.

  “You haven’t said anything about my shoes,” she said, kicking up her foot.

  I glanced at her new designer sneakers. “Pretty,” I responded, but my gut reaction told me something was wrong. “Maybe you shouldn’t let Trek spend so much money on you.”

  “Blaise!” She caught my wrist. “Are you jealous?”

  “Jealous?” Was I? The ache in my chest felt like worry, not envy. “Money makes any guy attractive,” I said. “You need to find out what Trek’s like when he’s not buying you things.”

  “He’s adorable.” She laughed and pulled at my skirt. “And you shouldn’t be jealous. If you want a guy in your life, all you have to do is fix yourself up. You can’t hide your body in clothes that are two sizes too big.” She brushed back my bangs. “And you have to get your hair out of your eyes. No one can even see your face.”

  “Melissa.” I batted her hand away. “It just seems like”—He’s trying to buy you!—“you should go slower.”

  “Why? My mom knew my dad was the one the moment she saw him.”

  And how long did he stay? Melissa hadn’t seen her dad since first grade.

  “Relax, Blaise,” she whispered as we stepped onto the porch. “I have everything under control. Trek’s right where I want him.”

  In the same moment, Trek opened the door, sunlight falling across his smile. He grabbed Melissa and pulled her, giggling, into the living room while I waited for Omar to frisk me.

  I was never going to get used to his hands on me. I stared down at the top of his head, his clean-shaven scalp, ready to jab my knee into his nose if his touch became more than business.

  “Okay,” he said, standing, his face expressionless. “You can go in.”

  I smoothed down my skirt and entered the house, pretending not to see Melissa and Trek, who had settled on the couch.

  As I headed toward the back porch, with Omar close behind me, the aroma of onions and b
eef drifted over me. My stomach pinched around the sugar I had eaten for breakfast. I had expected Trek to pay me before now, but the only money I had seen, he had given to Melissa. He probably knew I’d come over twice a day to make sure the puppies were okay even if he never paid me. I felt like they were mine.

  In the kitchen, Satch and Rico leaned against the counter, eating steak and cheese sandwiches. Trek was always giving them something extra, even small things like breakfast, because they were his favorites. Rico took risks and Satch was fearless, willing to back up Rico no matter how far he went. Dante sat alone at the small table, his scowl letting me know that he was in trouble with Trek. I glanced up, wondering if he’d accidentally fired a gun again, but I didn’t see any new bullet holes in the ceiling.

  “Hey, Blaise,” Satch greeted me. “Have a sandwich. Trek bought extras.”

  “I ate already,” I said, not wanting anyone to know I was living off packets of ketchup and sugar so my grandmother would eat.

  “Blaise.” Rico cut in front of Omar and followed me onto the back porch, grease dripping from the wrapper of the sandwich that he held up to me. “Take a bite. Just try it.”

  He thrust the bread against my lips, our eyes connected, and I wondered if he had recognized the look of hunger on my face. When he was little, his mother hadn’t always had enough money to pay a babysitter, so she’d sometimes left him at home alone with only a bowl of cereal while she went to work.

  I took a huge bite, letting the mayonnaise and melted cheese run over my lips, my mouth too full to speak.

  “Do you want one?” he asked.

  I shook my head, smiling. I hated the obligation that came with even small handouts, and I already owed Rico more than I could ever repay.

  He went back to the kitchen as I kneeled beside Pixie and Bonnie, who pawed at the side of their box in greeting before they rolled onto their backs and let me rub their soft bellies.

  While I took care of the dogs, Omar, Satch, and Rico talked. They shut Dante out of their conversation and, finally, exasperated with his interruptions, sent him to buy coffees. I tried not to listen to what they were saying, but the name Danny kept coming up. Danny had been their friend in elementary school, but living just a few blocks from each other had destined them to become members of enemy gangs. Now they were planning to go after him because he was stealing Trek’s customers. I wondered if they had factored Danny’s older sister Gatita into their plans. If anything happened to him, her revenge would be unending.