The First Last Boy by Sonya Weiss Page B

you. I never hit that. I swear.”
    Mama Leena looked at Juvante for a long time and then thrust a platter of salad greens into his hands. “Take this to the dining room and tell Destiny to get in here and help you boys set the table. Cooper says he’s not coming by. Are Ryker and Zane?”
    I shook my head. “Nah. I don’t think so. They went up to Illinois for the weekend.” She nodded, handed me a basket of cornbread and I followed Juvante. “You dog. You looked her in the face and lied.”
    Juvante set the greens down and said, “I only hit it a little, but I know it’s not mine. I wore my raincoat. That girl’s like a revolving door. I can’t let her mess me over right before I sign up.”
    We’d talked about him joining the military but I’d thought he was joking. “You? A Marine?”
    “Don’t laugh. I look good with a bald head.”
    “Shit. You’re serious?”
    “Yeah. Four more years of schooling? Not for me. You know I hate it.” He raised one eyebrow and droned in a nasal voice, “Students, if you will check your brain at the door, you too, could develop a stick up your ass and become a professor like me.”
    I laughed again, but what sucked was if anyone had the grades to get into a good college, Juvante did. Smart as hell with a high GPA. I couldn’t imagine not hanging with him.
    Destiny came in carrying a stack of plates.
    “Girl, you look so pretty,” Juvante said, licking his lips and smacking them loudly.
    She banged the plates on the table and with a dismissive wave of her hand left again.
    “Chanos came by the garage today.”
    Juvante stopped staring at the door after Destiny and whipped his head around to look at me. “What’d he want?”
    “Thinks I might know where some of his product from the warehouse is hiding.”
    Eyes wide, Juvante hissed, “Are you fucking for real?”
    “Yeah.”
    He stroked his chin. “That’s bad news. Those little shits probably took that stuff.”
    I nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking.” Anger burned in me at the potential consequences their actions could bring. “I’m going to beat their asses.”
    “I’m going to help you,” Juvante promised.
    After the table was finally loaded with food and Mama Leena said a prayer over it and ended with praying for all the missionaries in the world, the pounding beat of rap music outside the house shook the window.
    Juvante and I looked at each other and rose at the same time.
    “Sit down, boys. Clarke and Roman will be in shortly,” Mama Leena said calmly while spooning gravy over her potatoes.
    I slid back down into the hard chair and a second later, Juvante did the same.
    The rap music went silent.
    “I smell something good!” Roman shouted and then appeared in the doorway.
    I stared at his clean shaven face and didn’t see what I was looking for. When Clarke entered right behind him, that’s when I saw it. His blue eyes were red and glassy. His hair stuck up in different spots all over his head. Rubbing at his nose, he came around to the head of the table and leaned down to kiss the top of Mama Leena’s head.
    She took him by the hand and held on when he tried to walk to one of the empty chairs. “Where have you boys been?”
    His gaze darted around the table. “You know, Ma. Around.”
    Her shoulders slumped and because she wasn’t one to sweep things under the rug, she said in a tone full of fear and fractured hope, “Have you been using?”
    Clarke looked at Roman who ducked his head.
    “You stupid sonofabitch!” Juvante launched himself at Clarke. His fist connected with the side of Clarke’s face and they both tumbled backward to slam against the wall. They grappled for a few seconds before Juvante sat on his legs, pinning him against the floor. He pounded on Clarke and the dull thud of his fists connecting with flesh filled the air.
    Roman joined in the fight, punching Juvante in the back at the kidney line. At seventeen, he was built like a linebacker. He’d put a hurting