To a degree, Josiah realized that was a lie. He’d never been in a fight, and he got embarrassed easily, but damn did he want to be that guy. He wanted to be able to take care of himself, and if he couldn’t, he’d go down fighting.

“That’s not what I meant.” Molly looked at them in the rearview mirror. “I don’t doubt you, Josiah. And I know you’re probably used to being on your own, both of you, but regardless, you’re still boys. You deserve your childhood.”

“What childhood?” Mateo asked. Josiah jerked his head in Mateo’s direction only to have the guy lock eyes with him for a second before turning to watch the scenery go by like Josiah just had.

***

Josiah stumbled backward when the guy pushed him. His feet tangled and he fell. Everyone around them laughed as he struggled to get back to his feet. His heart collided with his ribs over and over. Three guys stood around him, blocking him.

“I don’t know where you come from, but we don’t like fags here. You keep your fucking eyes off me.”

Josiah shook his head. “No...I wasn’t...” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He also couldn’t say he wasn’t gay because he was. Still, he hadn’t been looking at the guy like that. “Please...”

“Aw, look. He even begs,” one of the other guys sneered.

“Fucking faggots.” The first guy came at Josiah again. For the second time, he stumbled, but now from trying to back away.

Just as he was about to grab Josiah, the guy tumbled backward, his friends trying to catch him as Mateo stepped between them. “You wanna fight, motherfucker? Fight me. I’m begging you to fucking fight me.”

“Who the hell are you?” the guy asked.

“Someone you don’t wanna fuck with but I’m really hoping you do it anyway.”

The guy who pushed Josiah eyed Mateo up and down. Mateo’s arms were stiff, muscles flexed, and even though Josiah couldn’t see his face, he could tell the look there made his attacker pause. The guy backed up. “I don’t have a problem with you. I have a problem with him. The little fag’s been watching me all day.”

It was his fault. Josiah knew that. He’d always watched people, pretended he had their lives and dreamed about how he would live them. But it hadn’t been because he wanted the boy.

Mateo didn’t even pause. “You got a problem with him, you got one with me. And I’m telling you, you really don’t wanna have a fucking problem with me, pendejo, cuz you’re going to have it with a shit-ton of other people, too.”

Josiah’s stomach turned, thank you and why a tangled mess in his head. He was talking about a gang. He had to be.

“What’s going on here?” A voice came from behind them, and then the principal was pushing his way through the crowd. Mateo didn’t change his stance. Didn’t back down or loosen up or even acknowledge that he’d spoken to them.

“Nothing,” the first boy said. “Everything’s cool.” The whole crowd of people disappeared with him, but the principal and Mateo didn’t move.

“Don’t think I’m not aware you were causing some kind of trouble out here,” he told Mateo.

Josiah stepped toward them. “No. He—”

“Has it exactly right. I was causin’ shit. That’s what I do. No reason to deny it.” Mateo went around the principal. Josiah only paused for a few seconds before he went after him. He had no idea if it was the right thing to do, but it was instinct, and he wanted to be the type of guy who just went with his gut.

“Wait...Um...Mateo...”

“Not now, kid.” He kept walking.

Thank you and why battled inside him again, yet Josiah didn’t say either of them. But he let himself wish, wish he had the strength to stand up for himself, just like Mateo.

Chapter Four

Mateo

Teo bit down on the side of his cheek, trying to calm down. The kid sat in front with Molly on the way home, as though he realized Teo needed space. His whole body was hot, tight. He felt like he could explode at any minute.

Nausea crawled up his throat and he fought it back down. He closed his eyes, pictures of a man with his wrists tied together as he hung from the ceiling flashing in his head.

“Fucking hit him, Teo!”

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his hand, back to the man with blood running down his body, coloring the ropes red that tied around his feet.

“You are a Sanchez! Act like it. Hit him!”

So Teo had. He’d hit him over and over and over, with the thick chain still wrapped around his hand.