Page 6 of Neverland

“For coming to my defense, yesterday. For sticking up for me.”

His now solemn eyes met mine. “You fight enough battles on your own. Sometimes life needs to cut you some slack. And by slack, that means your Mexican friend coming to your rescue.” Sinaloa-born, Romeo Sanchez was the son of two Mexican migrants, who in my mind were the most awesome parents a child could ask for. They met when they worked at the same restaurant, he as a bell-hop, she as a server. It was called Romeo’s, hence why they named their son after a place which brought them love.

“Even at the expense of looking like a panda?”

He tossed another book onto the pile. “As long as you’ll always say I’m cute, I’ll happily look like this every day.”

“Get a fucking room, you two. You’re making me sick.”

Caught off guard, we both jumped at the familiar sound of the older boy’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, Romeo was on his feet obstructing the aisle and effectively blocking me. Not even the memory and the physical pain of yesterday would stop him from coming to my rescue.

“Completing my punishment, same as you.”

Romeo scoffed. “They put you in the library with us?”

The older boy seemed bored with the conversation, eyes moving over his surroundings like he’d never seen them before. “Looks like it.” Tilting to the left, he looked around Romeo and waved, following it up with a sly wink. “Hi, Lucy.”

My skin crawled. How did he know my name? I didn’t even know his.

This provocation only reignited Romeo’s rage.

“You’ll stay the hell away from her.”

He sneered. “I’ll try. No promises.”

With full body weight behind it, Romeo shoved the boy’s chest, knocking him into the study tables behind. Although he didn’t expect it, the boy seemed unfazed and laughed with ridicule.

“Settle down, lover boy,” he mocked, straightening himself. In a heartbeat his expression turned serious. “Or I’ll be forced to give you another serving, and this time I won’t stop because a teacher comes to your rescue.”

“Why don’t you crawl back under the rock you came from?”

“Why don’t you crawl back to Mexico, Taco Bell.”

“I was fucking born here, you racist asshole.”

“Sshh!” came the hiss of the librarian from the front of the room. She looked within seconds of reporting us, her hand poised over the desk phone.

“Romeo, let’s just leave. We’ll ask Principal Rosser to put us somewhere else.”

“I wouldn’t bother,” came the boy’s indifferent tone. “They want us to complete our punishment after school and the only place still staffed is right here. So…” his greedy eyes met mine, “… I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself,” I said firmly, hiding my trembling hands under the table.

He smiled. “Like I said, I’ll try but no promises.”

“You’re such a dick.” Romeo went to move back to his seat but took two hasty steps back. “What the fuck, man?”

I saw it too, the glimmer of metal. The eleventh grader laughed at our seemingly naïve reactions, throwing his head back and defying the librarians continual hiss to be quiet. “Relax,” he said. “It’s just a paint scraper.” He’d purposefully held it on an angle to make it look like a knife. He gestured to the pile of books on the table beside me. “While you soft cocks keep your hands clean, I get to scrape gum off tables. I guess it takes someone with real muscle to do this.”

“Yeah,” Romeo said with sarcasm. “That’s definitely why Rosser gave you that job.”

I hid my giggle and returned to my chair where I started working on the pile of books Romeo had already glued. Within a few moments, he rejoined, eyes trained on the moron behind me.

“Let it go,” I said, fearful of another altercation. “He won’t try anything in the library.”

His doubtful eyes appealed to mine. “You’re giving him too much credit.”

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