Page 13 of The Devil's Den

I gasp, my eyes bulging.

He drops his hand. “Make sure you’re in bed in an hour.”

Then he’s out the door, the lock clicking, the engine roaring a minute later as he speeds away. I knew he’d never tell me why Matteo is here. I’m an idiot.

While Ms. Greco is busy in the kitchen, prepping food for tomorrow, I decide to creep into the basement with a few books in hand—textbooks Ms. Greco teaches me from. I don’t know what Matteo knows, but I figure maybe I could teach him what I’m learning. That way he isn’t missing out on school.

With a math and grammar book in hand, I stomp down the stairs, making sure to close the door behind me in case Dad comes home and catches me here. Louis, the man who stays in the front during the day, goes home once it’s bedtime.

“Aida?” he calls, the chains clacking as I take the last step.

“It’s me,” I whisper. “Miss me?”

“Kinda.” He smiles. “What’s that?” His attention jumps to the books in my hand.

“Since you can’t go to school, I brought school to you.” Walking over, I sit down beside him, his knee touching mine. “Ms. Greco is my teacher,” I explain. “I don’t go to a real school, and I thought—”

“Why don’t you go to school?” he interrupts.

I shrug. “My dad won’t let me. I get homeschooled.”

His expression turns serious. “Do you wanna go to school?”

“I think it’d be fun, but I try not to think about it much. There’s no point being sad about it. He won’t ever change his mind.” My stomach gets all twisty from embarrassment the more he looks at me. “Anyway, back to the books.”

“Okay.” His gaze lowers to the page as I open the math book.

“You’re in third grade like me, right?” I ask, just to make sure.

“Yep.”

“Good. What do you know about adding three numbers at a time?”

“I’m guessing you’ll show me?” He laughs.

“Sure will!”

“Are you any good?”

“Sometimes.” I grin wide, getting one out of him too.

We go through a few pages together, laughing, as I show him the method Ms. Greco taught me, jumping to pronouns for a little bit before the door opens and Ms. Greco calls for me to get to bed before I get into trouble. She leaves, giving me a moment to say goodbye.

“Before you go, I wanted to give you a picture I made.” He reaches under his thigh and takes out a ripped paper from the pad I gave him. On it is a photo of two kids who look exactly like us.

“Whoa,” I whisper. “Did you draw that?”

“Yeah, do you like it?”

My eyes bug out as my gaze dashes from him and then back to the picture. “Are you some kind of whiz kid or something?” I snatch the drawing. “This is really good. Likereallygood. Is that us next to a house?”

“Yep. When we’re bigger, we’ll have our own house, and no one will keep us from anything we want to do or boss us around.”

“I like that.” I giggle. “Can I keep it?”

“Yeah. I made it for you. Oh, and turn it around. I wrote something on the back.”

Matteo and Aida. Friends Forever.

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