Page 12 of No Good Deed


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“Working at his uncle’s garage. He hates it, but he needs the money.”

“Does he know I’m here?”

“Yeah. He was with Sean when you called. He’s been helping him work on his car.” Leo walks over to the kitchen, looking up at the broken cabinets. “He doesn’t like that you’re back.”

“Troy?”

“Yeah, he thinks you’ve changed. Says you’re some rich snob that forgot where you came from.”

“What the hell? I’m not rich. I can barely afford to put gas in my car.”

“At least you have a car,” Leo says, walking back to me. “Most people around here don’t. I had one for about a month before itbroke down. I didn’t have the money to fix it so I sold it. Been taking the bus or walking everywhere.”

“I worked for over a year to buy my car. And it’s old. It’s not like I’m driving around in a sports car.”

“Yeah, but it’s still better than any of us could afford. I’m just saying, when you see Troy, don’t be putting down the neighborhood, like saying it’s dangerous and shit. You got out of here, but the rest of us didn’t and probably never will. So we don’t like hearing how shitty it is and how it’s gotten worse since you left.”

“Yeah, got it,” I say, realizing how much has changed the past few years. I thought I could be with my friends and everything would feel like old times, but I’m not the same person I was when I lived here. Back then, I didn’t have goals for my life. I didn’t think about the future because I didn’t think I had one. Now I’m in college, and someday I’ll have a good-paying job and a house in a good neighborhood. But Leo will probably still be here, struggling to make enough money to buy food or ride the bus.

“Let’s get going,” Leo says, stepping over a pile of trash.

I follow him outside. “What about the door?”

He turns back, grabs the door, and props it up against the door frame. “Good enough.”

It’s really not. There’s enough of a gap that animals could get inside and destroy the place even more.

I can’t worry about it. It’s no longer my house. But I hate seeing it like that. It was originally my grandma’s house. It was really nice when she lived there. Then she died and my dad got it and let it go to hell. He never fixed anything when it broke so over the years, the house really deteriorated. But it was still the house I grew up in. The place I considered home. So seeing it like it is now is really depressing. I kind of wish I hadn’t gone inside.

“Where you going?” I ask as Leo takes off down the sidewalk.

“To Sean’s place.”

“Get in the car. I’ll drive you there.”

He walks back to me. “I forgot you have a car. I’m so used to people not having one, or not having one that works.”

Leo gets in the passenger side of my ten-year-old, small blue hatchback. It’s been a good car for me. It hasn’t broken down once in the year that I’ve had it and it doesn’t use a lot of gas.

“Damn, this is nice,” Leo says, looking around the car. “The seats aren’t even ripped.”

“I try to take care of it. I plan to have it a long time.”

“How much you pay for this?”

“Five grand,” I say, but it’s a lie. It was actually closer to ten, but telling Leo that would make him think I’m rich and no longer one of the guys.

“A car this nice for five grand?” He runs his hand over the dash. “How’d you find a deal that good?”

“This old lady wanted to get rid of it. Her eyesight was going and she couldn’t drive anymore. I saw the car in her driveway with a for sale sign on it. I made her an offer and she took it.”

“You got lucky, man. A car like this could easily sell for ten grand. It’s only what… nine or ten years old?”

“Ten.”

My friends know a lot about cars. I’m surprised Leo bought that story about this car only costing five thousand. But there’s an unspoken rule around here that you don’t lie to your friends. If Leo found out I lied to him just now, it could end our friendship. He might give me a one-time pass, but I’d lose his trust, and trust is everything around here. It’s how you survive. You trust no one except your closest friends, and even then, that trust has to be earned. It’s never given.

“Is that Sean’s?” I ask, seeing the rust-covered minivan outside his house.

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