All Involved Read Free Page B

shit.) Calling me Miss, though? Ha. If my stomach wasn’t fighting itself, I might even think that was cute. Even now, even in the heat of whatever, respect is necessary.
    Around here, that stuff isn’t courtesy. It’s currency. Can’t ever forget that.
    Apache leans in. “Spit it out, lil homie.”
    The kid raises his eyes from my front stoop and his face is all hard. “It’s her brother, he’s like—”
    Clever undoes the chain then the security door, and Apache snatches the boy inside by his shoulders, slams the door with his heel as the security metal slams behind it, and frisks the kid quickand efficient. The boy has too-long black hair and a chipped tooth. He’s got blood on him too.
    Fate picks up from there and shakes the kid a little. “ ¿Adónde? ”
    I can’t even lie. See, I’m thinking it’s Ray, my younger brother. He goes by Lil Mosco. (Mosco means “mosquito.” He caught that name cuz he never stopped buzzing around when we were little. He’s got Lil cuz there used to be a Big Mosco until last year. Drive-by. Rest in peace.)
    It takes the kid a minute to tell us the body is two blocks away, dead as dead can be. That’s when the blood really beats up in my ears cuz that doesn’t make any sense.
    Lil Mosco’s running to Riverside and back, I’m thinking, like, how could he . . . ?
    Shit. It hits me in that second, hits me right in the face and tilts the whole house on me. I gotta catch a wall with my hand just to stay upright.
    It ain’t Ray.
    â€œOh, fuck,” I say.
    Fate lets go of the kid and he’s got this sad look on his face, the saddest look I ever seen. He knows it too. Clever’s already got his mouth open like he forgot what breathing was. Apache has his head in his palms.
    It’s Ernesto, my big brother. My guts know it, but my brain’s disagreeing, saying things like, he’s not even a player. He’s not involved. He’s civilian. He’s off-limits, so there’s no way. No fucking way.
    But then it dawns on me like a math problem my stupid ass finally figured out. There are no rules now. None. Not with people rioting. I shiver when I realize every single cop in the city is somewhere else, and that means it’s officially hunting season on every fucking fool who ever got away with anything and damn, does this neighborhood have a long memory. I snort and take a second to appreciate the evil weight of it.
    I mean, me, Fate, and Clever joked about something like thishappening when we saw the dude getting bricked on the TV before Apache came over, and we were saying how now would be a good time to even up some scores if we felt like it, but I guess some homies were already out there, calling in old debts, blasting.
    Behind me somewhere, Lorraine comes out of my room and says, “No, baby, no . . .” like she’s trying to comfort me or something, but I’m not even sad right now and I sure as hell don’t want her hands on me.
    I’m angry.
    I mean, I never been so mad at anybody in my life. I see flashes of red dotting my vision as I dig my nails into the rifle butt.
    Like, how many times did I tell Ernesto to pay attention how he walked home? The dividing line between our neighborhood and theirs is too close as it is. Lazy-ass motherfucker got what he deserved for not listening to me!
    I bite my lip and realize I been holding my breath.
    I hear myself say, “Who knows?” It comes out sounding like rage.
    The kid looks confused. “Like, who did it?”
    â€œNo,” I say. “Who knows Ernie’s gone?”
    The kid gets around to it: just the people in the alley where he got dragged. Dragged, the kid says the word and I don’t even know what it fucking means in this situation. The word just doesn’t click for me. I don’t get it. Not right at that moment. Not with the house still spinning, not with me