Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“You will,” I promised. “You won’t be like me, too busy being an idiot to get your paperwork turned in on time and I’ve been saving up to pay for all your application fees.”
“Nana said she’d help with those.”
“Nana tries,” I replied ruefully. “But I have a feeling she’s underestimating how much it’s going to actually cost.”
“I’m going to college,” Bird said firmly, looking blankly down at his textbook. “Even if I have to get a thousand student loans.”
“Hopefully we’ll be able to get you enough in scholarships that you don’t have to do that.”
“Why the hell are we so poor?” he asked in frustration, turning to face me. “Pop has worked at the garage for like forty years plus all of the Aces side shit and you know he’s making as much as everyone else, so why the fuck are we in a trailer and they’re out there with ten houses and nice bikes and shit?”
As my brother scowled at me, I felt a pang in my chest that wasn’t unfamiliar. I’d wondered the same thing when I was younger. All of the kids my age were getting cars and always had spending money and generally just lived very differently than we did, so I’d asked Nana about it. I’ve never felt so shitty or guilty since that conversation.
“I asked Nana the same thing when I was a few years older than you,” I said, leaning against the counter facing Bird. “And she was so nice about it that then I felt like a complete asshole.”
“What did she say?”
“Pop got into some trouble before they met,” I said, giving him the bare bones that Nana had given me. “And someone died.”
“Pops killed someone?”
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. I’d never really gotten a clear answer on that either. “But I do know that the guy’s family sued him or something, and Pop has had to pay reparations ever since.”
“Shit.”
“And I’m pretty sure that it’s most of his paycheck.”
“That fucking blows.”
“I’m pretty sure any money we see is from Nana’s job and the side shit from the club,” I said with a shrug as I finished the macaroni and cheese and started cutting up the hotdogs to throw in it. “And I’m assuming you mean Tommy and Heather when you’re talking about the ten houses?”
“They’re rich as hell.”
“I don’t think they’re quite that rich,” I said with a laugh, though compared to us Rumi’s parents could definitely be considered well off. “Tommy bought a house when he was young, like Micky’s age and he started fixing it up and he sold it for way more money, and then did it again and again and again.” I glanced at him over my shoulder. “It was good timing and good luck, but he also worked his ass off on top of his responsibilities at the club.”
“I didn’t say they didn’t deserve it,” Bird muttered.
“I just mean that it’s not like Pop is getting less than everyone else,” I said, putting a bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of him. “Some of them have just got side gigs that are working out.”
“Thanks,” Bird said, reaching for his fork. “I don’t like being poorer than everyone else. They’re like, college? Of course I’m goin’ to college. Everyone goes to college. It costs money? Whatever. My dad will pay for it. And I’m over here like, who has a freakin’ dad?”
“Preaching to the choir, brother,” I said with a laugh, sitting down with him. “But don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”
“You’re working two jobs.” He glanced at me. “You’re already worried about money. I just wish I could get a job.”
“Are you kidding?” I asked, shaking my head. “You worry about school, alright? You don’t need a job. Good grief. You’re a baby. I’m banking most of what I make. I give a little to Nana to help out, pay my two bills, and put gas in the car. That’s it. I’m saving as much as I can for both of us.”
“That’s your money. I’m not going to take your money.”
“You sure as hell are,” I argued, thumping his knuckles with the back of my fork.
“You’re going to need it if you get into that school.”
“Oh, not if. I’m getting into that school,” I assured him with a cocky grin. “And you’re going to eventually get into all the schools you apply to and then we’ll just have to decide which one you feel like going to—the one that has sunshine three hundred and fifty days a year or the one with the best football program or the one with the best science program—”
“Football is stupid,” he said, shooting me a look.
“Noted,” I said with a shrug. “But the best teams have the best parties.”
“How the hell would you know that?”
“I just assume,” I replied defensively, while he laughed. “I’m just saying, you’re going to go wherever you want and it’s going to be great. Don’t worry.”