Page 13 of The Wright Man

But the boys weren't done. Boyd started circling like a hyena, hands out, exaggerated grin on his face, and sang the little song they'd come up with just for me.

"Little Bucky Bad Teeth,

chewin' rocks and eatin' beef!

Little Bucky Bad Teeth,

Bit the ground and cracked the street!"

It was stupid, but it still hurt my feelings. I knew my smile was messed up. My front teeth had come in early, way too big for my face, thanks to a tragic Tina-and-the-jump-rope incident that ended with my baby teeth gone, a mouthful of blood and Tina grounded for a month.

And these boys never let me forget it.

Theo and Gavin joined in, stomping and clapping like this was a pep rally. They laughed like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. I laughed too—right before I threw a rock in Boyd's direction.

"Don't make me embarrass y'all in front of the squirrels," I said, fists clenched. "Say one more word."

And of course, Boyd said one more word. "BUCKY—"

I didn't let him finish.

I swung on him, fast and hard like Kareem taught me in the garage that one time we practiced on pillows. I caught him in the arm and he stumbled—but before I could square up again, he shoved me. Hard.

My back hit the ground with a thud that rattled my teeth. I felt sand grind into my elbow and something sharp scrape my cheek. My vision blurred for a second, more from shock than pain, and then Maleek was beside me.

He didn't say a word.

He just knelt, his little face frowned up, and whispered, "You okay?"

I nodded, barely. He helped me get back to my feet before he turned around.

And Boyd caught hands.

Not the metaphorical kind. The real, wild, windmill kind. Maleek didn't even speak. He just launched. Dropped the lunchbox like it didn't matter, charged at Boyd with all the fury his little body could hold, and started swinging.

Boyd didn't know what hit him.

Literally.

One second he was grinning, the next he was screaming, trying to duck behind his arms as Maleek's fists flew. A flurry of fists, feet, dirt, and righteous chaos.

I just sat there, stunned, watching this boy—my boy—go full superhero over me.

Knees. Elbows. It was all movement and dust and noise, and then Boyd was on the ground, yelling for his boys to help. But Gavin was already gone, sprinting toward the tree line. Theo stood frozen.

"You better RUN!" I screamed at Theo, who turned tail and took off like his life depended on it—because it probably did.

Maleek didn't stop until Boyd peed his pants. Actually peed his pants.

Once the growing wet patch made it undeniable, Maleek climbed off him like it was a job well done and calmly walked back over to me—cool as a cucumber, like nothing had happened.

My cheek throbbed. I could feel the blood trickling down. But I still smiled.

"That was dumb," I told him.

He shrugged like it was nothing. "Shouldn't have pushed you," he mumbled. Then he broke into a grin. "But did you see? He peed on himself."

That was all it took. I cracked up. The kind of laugh that made your stomach hurt and your teeth show. I bent over, holding my side, even though it made my cheek sting worse.