“I don’t know,” Lucky murmured. “I worry more about the people who’ll miss him.”
Scout turned to give him a quick smile. “That’s sweet.” Swinging his arms, he took a couple of steps, and then stunningly enough, he executed a flawless pirouette, ending with his arms flung out at his side. For the first time, Lucky realized that what he’d assumed were dress shoes were really leather jazz shoes, and he laughed, both in startlement at the dance move and the surprise.
“O-kay….”
Scout shook out his arms and shrugged. “Kayleigh and I were taught dance for physical education. Good for flexibility, but sometimes Ilongedto catch a ball.”
Lucky laughed, as he was meant to. “I woulda gotten the crap beaten out of me if I’d even tried dance.”
Scout shrugged. “If you’dtriedit, yes, but not if you mastered it.” Very deliberately, he flexed his feet and raised himself to the tips of his toes, so slowly it was almost asifhe was levitating. But after seeing the table, Lucky knew the difference.
Much like he knew the strength and discipline it took to do what Scout was doing.
“Very nice,” he said, whistling. “That’s impressive.”
Scout inclined his head and executed a full bow from his toes, before slowly lowering his feet flat against the pavement again. “Thank you,” he said quietly, and although he paused, Lucky knew he wasn’t done. “The table… what you saw with the table? Itlookedeasy. Looked like the table just whizzed around, nothing to it.” He executed another pirouette, and this time Lucky saw his thigh muscles, his ass muscles, his back muscles, his calf muscles, all work in perfect concert.
And Lucky got it. “Years of training,” he deduced.
“Years of training,” Scout agreed, and an expression of sorrow—and resentment—passed over his features. “Much like the dance training, actually. Not all of it was welcome or pleasant.”
Lucky’s mouth made a little O. “I know how to use a gun,” he said baldly, not able to meet Scout’s eyes. “Not because I wanted to, but because Auntie Cree paid a guy to teach me when I was sixteen. She said if I had a reason to pick up a gun in our neighborhood, I’d better know how to use it.”
Scout took a step toward him, and Lucky was forced to look up and meet his cobalt-blue gaze. “So you do understand,” he said.
Lucky shrugged, feeling naked. “It was a month of Saturdays,” he said. “I hated every minute of it. I-I can’t imagine doing it for, what? How long have you been learning… dance?”
Scout blinked slowly and nodded, as though thinking. “Dance? Since I was five years old. Tables? Since I was three.”
Lucky sucked in a breath. “Did you hate learning them both?” Good God. Where had this guy been brought up?
“Not always.” Scout shrugged. “Like your gun. I hated the expectation that went with it. I hated that I had to, that it was necessary.” He grimaced. “I hated that Kayleigh had to do the dance but didn’t get to do the… table. Because she was a girl. Because she made dancing fun, and it wasn’t fair.”
Then Lucky made one of those brain jumps that used to get him strange looks at the public school he’d grown up in but that his Auntie Cree had told him meant he was destined for great things.
“You taught her,” he said, remembering that crazy circle the table had made and Scout’s determination to call the table back from the edge of the water. “Youtaught her, and you played with… the table together.”
Scout nodded, and the look he turned toward Lucky was both clear-eyed and sad. “She’s the best friend—probably the only friend—I’ve ever really had. I…. Never mind.”
And now Lucky felt like complete shit. He had no idea where Scout and Kayleigh had come from, but it was pretty clear now that Scout had been lonely and Lucky had looked like a possible ally. “My folks were junkies,” he said, not putting any pretty on the truth. “I was super smart in a school where that got you beat up, and pretty gay in a neighborhood where that could get you killed. My Auntie Cree was my best friend, and she… she died. And as far as I know, my coin could start burning a hole in my pocket any minute now. I didn’t want to meet anyone in case I had to leave. I’m sorry. I was a coward. You and your sister… you looked nice. But I figured you had Marcus and you wouldn’t need a Philly street rat, you know?”
Scout nodded and came to sit next to him, sagging against the cool marble of the bench. “I get it,” he said. “Just… just remember. Your coin. That’s a very serious secret you gave me. And I gave you one in return. So maybe the next time I come into Helen’s for coffee, you can maybe smile at me?”
Lucky swallowed. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I thought if I was a dick, maybe you guys, you wouldn’t get attached.”
“And once you knew about the… table, you thought maybe you could?” Scout asked dubiously.
Lucky sighed. “I figured you’d understand if one day I just disappeared. So, you know, you wouldn’t think I was making up excuses. It’s dumb.”
Which pretty much summed up how he felt at this exact moment, but the look Scout turned toward him was gentle.
“So you were trying to protect our feelings,” he said thoughtfully.
“And my own,” Lucky admitted. “I… it’s been a while since I had anybody I could trust. I figured I only got one person, you know?”
“Helen?”
Lucky shrugged. She’d reminded him of his Auntie Cree.
