Page 35 of Undisputed Player
Two different worlds, and we were just visitors in this one, hiding our poverty beneath ill-fitting costumes.
Leo and I moved quickly, slipping past crowds of chattering parents whose conversations revolved around ski trips and vacations. We were like ghosts haunting the edges of someone else's paradise, invisible unless someone needed to feel charitable.
The afternoon sun was warm on my face as we walked, a free gift from the universe that didn't require a credit check, and Leo chattered about the new dinosaur facts he'd absorbed that day. His enthusiasm was infectious, a bright spot in the endless gray of survival mode.
"The book says the T-Rex could bite with the force of three alligators combined!" Leo exclaimed, tugging at my hand for emphasis, his eyes wide with the kind of wonder that made everything worth fighting for.
I smiled despite the tiredness weighing down my eyelids like tiny anchors. "No wonder they ruled the earth."
“Queens did, too," he corrected with the serious authority of a five-year-old paleontologist.
I loved him.
“Queens, too," I agreed, warmth blooming in my chest despite the constant stress gnawing at my ribs.
We reached the bus stop just as the bus pulled up to the curb. The brakes hissed, and I helped Leo up the steep steps that seemed designed to discourage anyone under four feet tall from riding public transportation.
I paid our fare with carefully pre-counted coins that I'd sorted this morning like a sad little treasure hunt, guiding Leo to a seat near the front where I could keep an eye on everything.
The bus wasn't crowded yet; it would fill up at the next few stops with housekeepers and nannies heading home after their shifts in houses we’d never be able to afford.
We were the invisible army of people who kept the wealthy world running while remaining carefully unseen.
Leo pressed his face to the window, studying the urban habitat, his breath fogging the glass in perfect circles. I settled beside him, allowing myself one precious moment to close my eyes. Just a moment.
The gentle sway of the bus was almost hypnotic, and the rumble of the engine created a white noise that made my eyelids feel like they weighed fifty pounds each.
When was the last time I slept an entire night? When was the last time I felt human instead of like a zombie?
"Elle?" Leo's voice pulled me back from the edge of unconsciousness. "Are you sleeping?"
I straightened, blinking away the fatigue that clung to my vision like cobwebs. "No, buddy. Just resting my eyes for a second."
He studied my face with that too-perceptive gaze that missednothing. I often wondered if he could see through my carefully constructed façade to the exhausted, terrified woman underneath.
"You should sleep more," he announced with the wisdom of someone who'd learned to worry about the adults in his life. "The teachers say sleep is important for growing brains."
Teachers also say lots of things about balanced meals and stable housing, but we're improvising on those fronts too.
"They're right," I smiled, stroking his soft hair and marveling at how something so perfect had emerged from the chaos of our family tree. "But my brain is done growing, so I'm okay."
He didn't look convinced, too smart for his own good, but the bus lurched to a stop, distracting him as a group of teenagers boarded, whose indoor voices had clearly died tragic deaths. I pulled Leo a little closer, a reflexive protection against the unpredictability of our world.
The hour-long ride stretched before us like a slow-motion transition between worlds. We watched as manicured lawns gave way to concrete and chain-link fences.
By the time we reached our stop, the sun was painting the sky and casting long shadows across cracked sidewalks. I held Leo's hand tightly as we navigated the familiar obstacle course home, past the corner with its flickering neon sign that spelled "Convnint Stor,” and past the laundromat with the perpetually broken window.
We passed the group of men who always gathered on the stoop of a building near ours, like a neighborhood watch committee that watched everything except actual crimes. Their eyes tracked our movement with lazy interest.
Just keep walking. Just keep breathing. Just keep existing until tomorrow.
We were a block from our building when the screech of tires split the air and made us stop in our tracks. Metal met asphalt with a horrible sound, followed by a thud that raised every hair on my body.
I whirled around, instinctively pushing Leo behind me. A black carwith dark-tinted windows peeled away from the scene, tires smoking against the pavement in a dramatic exit.
In its wake, a figure in dark clothing lay crumpled on the ground.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
