Brewin' in the Boroughs

Chapter 22

Race stood nervously next to his and Jojo's bunk. He wrung his cap in his hands, trying to decide what to say.

"Hey Jo," he tried.

"Hey," the other boy responded shortly.

"Can I sit down, maybe?"

"I don't know, can you?" Jojo asked, glancing up to meet Race's eyes. Race looked dow and Jojo sighed. "Go ahead."

"Thanks," Race mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Got anythin' to say?"

"What?"

"Why are youse here Race?"

"I came to say that I was sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Jojo asked, genuinely confused.

"For comin' back the way I did. For bein' selfish and pushin' you away when you tried to help."

"It's fine," Jojo shrugged. "Sometimes we've gotta take time for ourselves."

"Jojo, I was drunk out of my mind."

"I know that Race. Trust me, everybody knew."

"But I told you I would stop!" Race cried. "After the last time I promised you that I was gonna stay away from stuff like that."

"Don't beat yourself up over it, I shouldn't have asked that from you."

"What do you mean Jojo?"

"You can't help it Race! It wasn't fair for me to ask you to quit, 'cause I know that you don't have control over it! You can't stop, not for anyone."

The disappointment in Jojo's voice and eyes were worse than the anger that Race had been expecting. Race longed for the boy to lash out, yell at him, tell him how selfish he was. To tell him that he was a liar who'd broken a promise.

That would have been better than Jojo sitting there and excusing it on account that he didn't believe Race had self control. Race hated letting Jojo down, and that's exactly what he had done.

"I'm sorry Jo," he said, eyes pleading with his friend to understand, to regain faith in him. "I'm gonna get better, I promise."

Jojo raised a brow skeptically. "Youse already promised that."

"But I mean it this time. Ise gonna be here for ya this time."

Jojo considered the thought, analyzing Race's features before giving a sharp nod. "Okay. But this is your last chance. Youse better not screw it up."

A smile slowly spread across Race's face. "I won't. I ain't gonna let youse down again."

***

Spot slammed the door shut as hard as he could. It shook on it's hinges, drawing surprised looks from his boys. He ignored them all in favor of storming up to his room, slamming that door too.

After throwing around a few more things and almost breaking his hand against the wall, he sunk into his chair, his head dropping to his chest. His eyes burned, but he ignored the sting. Spot Conlon didn't cry, not even when he was alone.

He glanced up at the sound of the doorknob slowly turning. The door creaked open just far enough for an eye to peek through.

Spot watched confusedly as the door opened even further, a blond head poking into the room, looking back nervously.

Dimples hesitantly stepped into the room after silence from Spot. "What's wrong Spot?"

"Nothin'," Spot replied, coming out of his surprise.