Trey sat at the picnic table, waiting for his visitor. He had refused to see his mother the first three times she'd come. He was surprised she even came back again, but he was glad she did. Not that he missed her, or even cared about seeing her, but he needed her help. And he didn't get many visitors – not even Ryan. Yeah, Trey got him arrested, but Ryan never held a grudge against him before, even when he deserved it. So if Ryan wasn't going to visit, he'd have to see his mother.

He saw Dawn walk through the chain-link fence gate. He watched as she brought her hand to her forehead, as though trying to press back a headache, and noticed the dark sunglasses she wore. Great, he thought, she's hung-over. Not that it surprised him, but it might make the visit more difficult. Dawn was such a bitch when she was hung-over. Well, more of a bitch.

Trey stood up as she walked towards him. She immediately embraced him and he half-heartedly participated. He just wanted to get this over with.

"Oh, Trey, I was so happy when they said you'd see me today." She finally let him go and they sat across from each other. Trey just wanted to scream at her to shut the fuck up, but he had to be nice if he had any hope of getting help from her, so he didn't interrupt. "I've been missing my boys so much, so when you finally let me…"

"Boys? Where's Ryan? Isn't he with you? Did he end up in juvie?" Trey couldn't believe it. Ryan should have been able to get off. He had a clean record and had never been arrested before. And he was just along for the ride, he didn't really do anything. Though the kid did have a smart mouth. God, did he mouth off to the wrong person?

"No, he's not in juvie. His rich lawyer got him off with probation." Dawn eyed Trey. "Haven't you talked to him?"

"Where the fuck is Ryan?"

Trey saw a glint in Dawn's eye, the kind she got when she had the upper hand. "He's living with his rich lawyer now. He decided he liked it better there."

Ryan decided? That made no sense to Trey. Ryan had never asked for anything for himself from Dawn. Trey had tried to smarten the little shit up, make him realize he couldn't rely on anyone but himself, make him realize that Dawn was never going to be what Ryan needed. What had happened that Ryan would willingly move away? What had she done to him?

"You're telling me that Ryan asked his lawyer if he could live with him and the lawyer said yes?" None of that made any sense to Trey.

Dawn pulled out a cigarette and tried to light it. She flicked the lighter quickly, but her hands were shaking, so she couldn't get it lit. "Goddamn wind," she said, finally getting the cigarette lit.

Trey leaned in closer to her. "What really happened with Ryan?"

Dawn's jaw hardened. "You know what, Trey?" Dawn took a drag on the cigarette, holding the smoke in her lungs for a few seconds before finally blowing it back out. "You are in no place to judge. I already spent your teenage years worrying about you, always in trouble with the cops." Dawn took another nervous drag on the cigarette. "I wasn't doing it again with Ryan. Not if he was going to turn out like you. So I told him to get out when he came home from jail. I just couldn't deal with it. He called his rich lawyer and that's where he is."

Trey drummed his fingers on the picnic table. "You keep saying rich. You mean like own their own home rich?"

"I mean like own their own mansion rich. They've got Ryan in some fancy private school. They've got a swimming pool right in their backyard, which overlooks the beach. Newport Beach," Dawn added for emphasis.

Trey whistled. "No shit? Ryan's living in Newport Beach?" He took the cigarette from Dawn. "But is he happy? You know, living with strangers?" He took a puff and blew the smoke back out towards Dawn.

"He seems happy. " Dawn shrugged. "They've got this kid who's Ryan's age. A real nerd if you ask me," Dawn shook her head, "but Ryan seems to really like him. And the Cohens are nice enough. They even let me stay with them one night, took me to one of their fancy parties."

Cohen. Trey filed that bit of information in his mind. He hadn't been sure if his mom would let him know how to get in touch with Ryan, and now he didn't have to ask.

"So he's OK?"

"He seems to be."

Trey nodded his head, satisfied. He stamped out the cigarette butt. "Look, Ma, I need money."

"Money? What for?" Dawn asked.

"I'm into Gattas for six grand."

"Six thousand dollars? What are you doing messing around with him?"

"He was the only one who'd take my bet, and Ma, it was a sure thing. I couldn't let the opportunity go."

"If it was a sure thing, why do you owe him?"

"It's the Atwood luck, Ma. You know how it goes."

Dawn nodded knowingly. If it weren't for the Atwood luck, she'd be living in a mansion overlooking a beach. "I don't have six grand. You know that."

"What about AJ?"

"I threw his sorry ass out months ago. I just don't have that kind of cash, baby."

"Well, what am I gonna do?" Trey asked. "I can't come up with that kind of money in jail."

"You should have thought of that before you got arrested trying to steal a car."

"Why do you think I was stealing the car in the first place?"

Dawn turned hard again. "You mean you got my baby mixed up in all this just to pay off a stupid bet to Gattas?"

"It was for his own good. He needed to learn how to survive. He needed to learn how the real world worked."

"Well, I guess you taught him that in the real world if he gets arrested, he gets to live in a mansion." Dawn looked at her watch. "Sorry, babe, I wish I could help you. I really do. But I gotta run. Can I come see you again?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Dawn stood up and gave Trey a hug and a kiss. "I love you, baby. You know that, right?"

"Whatever, bitch," Trey said to himself as she walked away. He should have known Dawn wouldn't even try to help him.


Two days later, Trey was lined up for his laundry shift. He looked down the line at the other inmates as they waited for their partner assignments. He saw two faces that he didn't recognize. He hoped they didn't ruin the good thing he had going. Though the pairings were supposed to be varied and random, the guards always found it easier to pair the same people together. Lately, Trey had been paired with Johnson. He was a quiet guy who didn't say much, but what he did say was damn funny. He kind of reminded Trey of Ryan.

"Atwood, Gonzalez, you take Station 5."

Trey looked at Gonzalez. He was the larger of the two new guys. Larger than Trey even, and Trey didn't think of himself as small.

As they walked towards Station 5, Trey felt apprehensive. Normally, he and Johnson would be happy to get Station 5. It was in the corner and not always in the guard's line of sight. There were plenty of opportunities for slacking off during a shift. But to be isolated with the unknown factor of Gonzalez made Trey nervous.

It turned out Trey had a reason to be nervous. As soon as they reached their station, Gonzalez said, "Gattas wants his money."

Oh shit, Trey thought to himself. This can't be good. Sure enough, as soon as they were out of the guard's sight, Gonzalez gave him a quick punch in the kidneys.

Trey straightened up and grabbed his back in pain. He knew he had to recover before the guard came by again. And he knew he couldn't take this guy here in the laundry. Laundry may not be the best job in prison, but it was a job. Plenty of other guys were waiting for the opportunity. If Trey started a fight, he'd be pulled from laundry. And that would mean four extra hours a week that he'd have to spend in his cell.

He went back to loading the laundry. "I'm working on it, man." He couldn't let Gonzalez know he was scared. He just tried to get the laundry done as quickly as possible so he could get away from Gonzalez. "It's not like I can make quick money in prison."

Gonzalez punched him again in the same spot, causing Trey's knees to buckle. "Work faster. Gattas wants his money and he doesn't care where you are."

Gonzalez left him alone the next few times the guard turned his back. Whenever Trey started to relax and think he was going to be left alone, Gonzalez would punch him in the back again. Just before the shift ended, he gave Trey one last punch. "Don't forget, Gattas wants his money, and he always gets what he wants."

How can I forget? Trey thought to himself. I'll be pissing blood all week.


The next day, Trey took advantage of his opportunity to make one phone call a day. He dialed Arturo's number, hoping he'd be home. He heard Arturo's mother, Eva, answer the phone and they both listened to the computer system say, "You have a collect call from…Trey Atwood…from the California Department of Corrections. Will you accept the charges?"

There was a pause and Trey was certain Eva was going to say no. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard her answer "yes".

"Thanks, Eva."

"Well, I haven't seen your mother around lately, so I thought you might be looking for her." This confused Trey momentarily, but since he wasn't concerned about his mother, he just ignored it.

"Actually, I was looking for Arturo. Is he around?"

"No, Trey, he's working."

Was Eva trying to make a dig at him? He wasn't going to bite. He needed to be on Eva's good side if she was going to pass on his message. "Damn. I really need to talk to him. Can you ask him to come see me this weekend? If he can?"

"I can't promise you, Trey. He's been really busy. But I'll tell him."

"Thanks, Eva." Trey hung up the phone. Arturo had to come through for him.


For Trey's next laundry shift, he was back with Johnson on laundry duty. He wasn't quite as light-hearted as usual, but at least his kidneys had a chance to heal.

Trey waited in his cell all day Saturday for a guard to come and tell him he had a visitor, but it didn't happen. When visiting hours came and went, Trey cursed that Arturo hadn't come. There was always Sunday. But what if Arturo still didn't come? Trey had to do something, or it would be more than just his kidneys next time. He could call Ryan. Those people he was living with were rich, right? Ryan could get him the money.

But maybe Ryan was really pissed. He hadn't tried to contact Trey at all in the past 5 months. That wasn't like Ryan. Maybe these Cohens were forbidding him to contact his family. That just wasn't right. Ryan was his little brother, and he had every right to see him. Who did they think they were, denying Ryan access to his brother? And if they were as rich as Dawn said they were, six grand would be nothing to them. If Ryan's living the high life out in Newport Beach, the least he could do was get his brother a lousy six grand that the rich lawyer family wouldn't even notice.

So if Arturo didn't show up tomorrow, Trey would call Ryan. It's the least Ryan could do. If Ryan insisted on turning his back on his family, on his old way of life, the least he could do would be to get Trey the money he needed. All those years Trey spent looking out for Ryan, protecting him from violent adults – Ryan owed Trey that much.

Trey spent Sunday pacing his cell, hoping for a visitor. With only an hour of visiting time left, Trey had just about given up hope when a guard came to get him. "You've got a visitor, Atwood." Trey didn't even bother to ask who it was; he just headed straight out to the visiting yard.

Trey sat at a picnic table, realizing too late that he should have asked who his visitor was. He would be pissed if it was Dawn again, and not Arturo like he needed.

But luckily it was Arturo who came through the chain-link gate. When Arturo got over to where Trey was sitting, Trey stood up so they could do the handshake-half hug that guys do.

After they sat back down, Trey said, "I wasn't sure you were going to come."

"I wasn't going to. But I wasn't going to hear the end of it from Theresa until I did." Arturo shook his head.

"Theresa? Why would she care if you came to see me?" Trey knew Theresa had never like him.

"She's wondering how Ryan is … where Ryan is," Arturo said.

"Why doesn't she just ask Mom?" It seemed obvious to Trey, and he knew Theresa wasn't stupid either.

"We haven't seen your mom, man. After you guys got arrested, she kicked Ryan out and then skipped out the next day."

Trey tried to process this. Arturo wouldn't lie to him, but that meant his mother did. If she skipped out after she kicked out Ryan, how could she even know where Ryan was? The rich lawyer story – how could he have believed that? "She told me he was living with his lawyer in Newport. That he was going to private school and that she even stayed in their mansion one night. Why would she make up such a bullshit story?"

"I don't know, man. All I know is that Theresa was pissed at him the night you guys got arrested so she told him he couldn't crash with us after your mom kicked him out. Then he disappeared, and so did your mom."

"Where the hell is he, then? Trey was pissed at Dawn, but he didn't even know how to get a hold of her, to ask her about Ryan. He had thought she was still in their house.

"I don't know, man. I do know that Theresa won't be happy. Maybe I can tell her the rich lawyer story anyway," Arturo thought out loud. "It's better than telling her that no one knows where he is."

"Yeah, well, Ryan's not why I needed to see you. I need to sell my car." It hurt Trey to say it, because he loved that car. And he had worked hard to get it. From the minute he'd laid eyes on it, he knew he had to have it. He had followed the owner, on and off, for weeks. The owner had taken really good care of it, too. Trey learned his every movement and finally struck when the opportunity arose. Arturo had convinced him to let it sit for a few months, and then they were going to paint it, and change the VIN and plates so Trey could drive it.

"We haven't done anything to it yet, Trey. And I thought you took that car for you."

"I did, but something came up. I need you to take the car to Gattas…"

"Gattas? No way, man," Arturo said. "I'll help you out any other way, but no way I'm going anywhere near Gattas."

"Come on, Arturo …" Trey couldn't believe Arturo was going to punk out on him.

"No, Trey. It's not happening."

Trey knew he wasn't going to convince him. "Fine. If I get someone to take the car for me, will you get it going?"

"Sure, Trey. But who you gonna get? No one in their right mind would go near Gattas."

Arturo was right. "I don't know. But I have to get someone."

"Look, man, I gotta jet. I can't hang around here all day." Arturo gave Trey an apologetic look.

"Yeah, that's fine." Trey waved his hand dismissively, already thinking about who he could get to deliver his car to Gattas. "Thanks for coming."


On Monday morning in the laundry, Trey was paired with Gonzalez again. Trey tried to explain things before any punching could start. "Look, man. I got this car. It's a 1968 Olds Cutlass, mint condition. I get it to Gattas, then we're square."

Trey's pre-emptive attempt did nothing to assuage Gonzalez's love of violence. He punched Trey in the stomach. "Gattas doesn't have the car yet." As Trey was bent over, he brought his knee up and bashed Trey in the chest. "He's getting impatient."

Trey dropped to his knees. He had barely recovered when the guard came by again. This time Gonzalez wasn't as lenient. Every time they were out of guard's sight for the next two hours, he inflicted some sort of pain on Trey. Jabs to Trey's kidneys, ribs, stomach, chest, and back. With the last one, he told Trey, "I'll let Gattas know about the car."

On Tuesday, Trey used his phone call to call Mikey, but Mikey refused to accept the collect call.

On Wednesday, Trey tried calling Pete, but Pete refused to accept the collect call.

On Thursday, Trey called Eddie, who actually agreed to talk to him. But he refused to take the car to Gattas for him. Eddie tried suggesting guys Trey could call. "Did you try Pete?"

"Yeah, he wouldn't take my call," Trey told him bitterly.

"What about Mikey?" Eddie suggested.

"I already tried him!" Trey shouted into the phone. He was getting frustrated.

"Sorry, man" Eddie said. "It's just that I like my face the way it is." When Trey didn't answer, Eddie offered, "Why don't I come up and see you sometime?"

"Do what you want." Trey slammed down the phone. He wanted to smash the phone in frustration but restrained himself. He didn't think it would go over well with the guards.

What was he going to do? The beatings were just going to keep getting worse and worse, and he had no way of getting his car to Gattas. It seemed so simple. He had a car that could more than pay off his debt, Gattas was willing to accept the car to pay off his debt, but he had no way of getting the car to Gattas. The Atwood luck struck again.

Atwood luck. Damn, if he knew where Ryan was, Ryan would take the car to Gattas. Trey could always get Ryan to do anything he wanted him to. Even the night they got arrested, Ryan hadn't wanted to go along. He and Theresa had been fighting and Ryan wanted to stay home and mope about it. But Trey knew AJ would be home and mean, so he'd convinced Ryan to come along.

Maybe Ryan was with that rich lawyer's family. Dawn couldn't make that shit up. It was an elaborate lie if it was a lie. Hell, it wouldn't hurt to call and find out, right? And even if Ryan wasn't living with them, this Cohen guy should still know where Ryan was. Ryan was too responsible to not keep in contact with his lawyer and go to his hearings. It wouldn't hurt to try.

The following Monday, Trey's laundry shift was uneventful. He was relieved that Gattas seemed to be waiting patiently for the car delivery. He discovered otherwise that afternoon during recreation time in the exercise yard.

He was lifting weights in the corner when Gonzalez came over and said, "We're going to play basketball."

Trey really didn't want to play basketball with Gonzalez. "Thanks anyway, but I'm lifting weights."

Gonzalez took a step closer and said again, "We're going to play basketball." His two friends moved in and took the weights from Trey, and stood menacingly on either side.

Trey relented because he had no choice. They started playing one-on-one. "Gattas hasn't seen the car yet," he said to Trey as he simultaneously went up for a basket and elbowed Trey in the mouth. Hard.

Trey took the ball and dribbled it at the top of the key, trying to get his breath back. "I'm working on it. I need to get a hold of my brother. Ryan'll bring the car to Gattas," he said as he wiped the blood off his lip. Trey realized the other inmates had started to gather around, forming a shield from the guards.

"Yeah, well Gattas doesn't like to wait. He wants his money," Gonzalez told him. Once he was sufficiently shielded, he acted quickly since he wouldn't have much time before the guards came to break it up. His two goons held Trey's arms as Gonzalez pummeled him.

One quick "Hey" from one of the observers, and the crowd quickly dissipated, leaving Trey lying on the basketball court by himself. A guard came over to see what was going on, but no one, not even Trey, would say what happened. They sent Trey back to his cell.

Trey's next recreation period was Wednesday. He requested to go to the library instead of the exercise yard. He wasn't much on computers, but he knew inmates were allowed Internet access. With the help of the inmate librarian, he looked up Orange County's Public Defenders Office. He looked through the five branch offices but there was no Cohen listed. Damn, he thought, Dawn was lying. Then he realized Ryan's public defender would be from the Juvenile Center and there he found it. Sandy Cohen. Sandy Cohen of Newport Beach. He was one step closer to finding Ryan.

His one phone call that day was to Information. "Sandy Cohen in Newport Beach," Trey told the automated voice. Please let his number be listed. Please let me find him, Trey silently pleaded. The automated voice on the other end came back with "The number is 949-555-0785." Trey quickly wrote it down on a piece of paper and then listened as the voice repeated the number, double checking to make sure he wrote it down right.

Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, Trey thought. Ryan won't be in school; he'll be able to come visit me. They can't deny him visiting his own brother on Thanksgiving. Can they?


First chance he could the next day, Trey tried calling Ryan. The phone rang once. The phone rang twice. Please be home, thought Trey. At the end of the third ring, Trey heard a woman answer with a cheery "Hello?" They both listened to the automated voice, "You have a collect call from…Trey Atwood…from the California Department of Corrections. Will you accept the charges?"

The woman's voice wasn't quite so cheery when she said, "Yeah, I'll accept the charges."

Trey's heart was racing as he said, "I'm looking for Ryan Atwood. This is his brother Trey. Is he there?"

The confidence totally left the woman's voice as she answered, "Uh, yeah, he's, uh, he's right here. H-hold on a second."

Trey heard her say tentatively, "Uh, Ryan, it's your brother."

He was right there. But then there was the longest pause, which Trey was sure meant that Ryan was refusing to talk to him. Then he heard Ryan say hesitantly, "I'm just going to, uh…"

Trey expected either Ryan or the woman to say something to him, but the line was still quiet. Was the woman trying to figure out how to tell him that Ryan didn't want anything to do with him? Finally he heard Ryan's voice say into the phone, "Hey, bro."

"Hey little brother. I've missed you." Trey hadn't realized how much he had actually missed Ryan until he heard his voice. "How are things going?"

"Good. You?"

The little shit was making small talk like they hadn't been away from each other for five months and everything was normal. "Well, I'm in jail, but I'm pretty sure you knew that. I was hoping you could come visit me."

"What? Today? It's, it's Thanksgiving, Trey."

When did holidays ever matter before? Thanksgiving was just a day off school. It didn't actually mean anything to Atwoods. "I know it's Thanksgiving. It's just been a long time since I've seen you. I thought you might want to see your brother. Don't you want to see your own brother?"

"No. Yeah, I know. It's been a long time. It's just … Doesn't Mom want to see you?"

Trey hadn't convinced Ryan yet. He thought that if Ryan answered the phone, if he agreed to talk to Trey, then getting him to come would be the easy part. What did those people do to him that made him not want to visit his brother? "I don't know. She never said if she was coming back or not. Will you come?"

"OK."

"God, Ryan, don't sound so happy about it. I just wanted to see my brother. But if you don't want to see me, that's fine. You can just forget about it." Trey knew guilt was the best way to get Ryan to do what he wanted him to do. He was so easy to manipulate.

"No. I want to see you too. It's been … too long. So …"

Trey breathed a sigh of relief. He had convinced Ryan to come. "So I'll see you soon. I've missed you, little brother. It'll be good to see you again."

"You too. Bye."

Trey hung up the phone. He was on his way to settling his debts. All he had to do was convince Ryan to deliver the car for him. And he could always talk Ryan into doing anything.

Then Trey had an awful thought. What if Ryan didn't come by himself? What if the lawyer came with him? There was no way the lawyer would let Ryan do something illegal. Though the car didn't have to be delivered today. If Trey could get a chance to talk to Ryan alone, and convince him to do this, then Ryan could always come back on Saturday by himself. This Cohen guy couldn't deny two brothers the right to talk privately.

Trey wondered how long it would be before Ryan got there. He figured it was no more than an hour's drive from Newport. But Ryan certainly didn't sound like he was going to hop right in the car as soon as he hung up the phone. Damn, he should have asked Ryan when he thought he'd be leaving.

Two hours went by, and Trey was starting to have doubts. What if these Cohens wouldn't let Ryan come visit him? Trey wondered how much control they had over Ryan. Did he have to ask their permission to go places? Maybe he hadn't convinced Ryan to come. Maybe Ryan was blowing him off.

By the time a guard came by an hour later to tell him he had two visitors, Trey was a bundle of nerves. As Trey walked out to the visitors yard, he was cursing to himself. He had hoped to get the whole Gattas thing over with today. But if Ryan brought that lawyer guy with him, there was no way he could deliver the car. Trey might not even get a chance to ask him to do it.

Trey was sitting at the picnic table, watching the gate. He saw Ryan walk in with a girl who had the longest legs and shortest skirt he'd seen in a while. What was Ryan thinking bringing a girl dressed like that to a prison? From the looks of how uncomfortable she was with her surroundings, Trey figured prison wasn't somewhere she had ever been before. Or wanted to be right now.

"Hey, little brother."

"Hi. This is Marissa. Marissa. She even had an expensive name. She was a pretty girl, even if she looked a bit vacant. Trey ignored her though. He didn't want her horning in on their conversation. Instead he turned his attention to Ryan.

"It's good to see you, man." Trey meant it. As he gave Ryan a hug, he realized he did miss the kid. Sure, he could be a pain in the butt, but he was a good shit. Kept his mouth shut when he was supposed to. Trey could always count on Ryan to have his back. He was counting on that today.

"Uh, you know what, you guys talk. I'll just be over here."

Trey was glad Marissa got the hint that he wanted to visit with his brother alone. She looked like the type of girl you had to watch your language around.

"Look at you, man."

"Sorry I haven't come by to see you."

"You've been busy. Mom said you'd done pretty good for yourself."

"How you been?"

"You know, not so good."

"What do you need?"

"Don't say it like that, man. Can't a guy just see his brother on Thanksgiving?"

"You tell me."

"Hey, forget about it, all right. I didn't want to have to call you, but I'm in trouble. When we got arrested, I owed some people a lot of money. Money that I lost. Like, six grand."

"How'd you lose six grand?"

"I'm an Atwood, bro. You know our luck. The people that I owe it to, they got friends in here who like to remind me about it. It's only gonna get worse."

"I don't have that kind of money."

"I'm not asking you for the money."

"So what are you asking me for?"

"I need you to deliver a car for me." Trey watched Ryan's face, trying to read him.

"What car?"

"My car. The one Arturo's holding for me."

Ryan lowered his voice to a whisper. "You want me to deliver your stolen car?" Trey could hear the contempt in his voice. "Where?"

"To Gattas's garage. It's really easy. You just drive the car in, tell Gattas it's from me, and then the debt is settled and everyone's happy. There's nothing to it, Ryan."

"Except driving a stolen car." Ryan sounded like he wasn't going to do this. Trey decided to change tactics.

"Don't be such a pussy, Ryan. Gattas's garage is, like, five blocks from Arturo's house. You can drive five blocks without being stopped by a cop."

"I don't know, Trey." That was better than a flat out no. Trey kept pressing.

"What? Has living in Newport made you soft?"

"It's not that, Trey. It's just … different there. The Cohens wouldn't understand."

"So you're more loyal to them than you are to me, your own brother? After all I've done for you, all the times I protected you. How many times did I take a beating that you deserved?"

Ryan looked away from Trey. Trey was pretty sure he was cracking him.

"Come on, Ryan. One favour. I'll never ask you for another favour again. But if you don't do this, these guys are going to kill me. Do you want that on you? Fine. If you can handle being responsible for my death, then I'll understand if you say no."

Ryan jutted out his bottom jaw. Trey knew that meant Ryan was seriously considering it. He also knew that Ryan wouldn't be able to live with himself if Trey got killed because Ryan wouldn't do it.

"Fine. I'll do it," Ryan finally said.

"Thanks, bro." He was relieved that this debt was going to be taken care of. "So, tell me about life in Newport."

Ryan shrugged. "It's all right."

"Are they really rich?"

Ryan shrugged. "Yeah," he admitted. "They buy anything they want without even thinking about it." He smiled. "You should see the fridge, Trey. It's always full. Always. There's like, four kinds of cheeses, and none of it's Cheese Whiz. Juice, milk, pop – it's always there. And I don't even have to ask for it. I can just take it."

It was hard for Trey to even imagine what it was like. "But they expect you to work for it, right? You've got to do whatever they ask, and they won't let you have fun."

"No, Trey. I even had a job this summer, and they made me quit it when school started. They give me an allowance and insist I spend it on myself."

"How much do they give you?"

Ryan looked embarrassed. "A hundred bucks a week."

Trey looked shocked. "For an allowance?"

"I know," Ryan said. "But the cafeteria at the school they send me to? Well, let's just say one of the choices is sushi. It doesn't take long to go through that much money when you live there."

"But are they nice to you?"

"The Cohens? Yeah. They tried to help Mom until she got drunk and ditched me again. Even today, Kirsten sent that pie for you; Seth gave me one of his comic books for you."

"But are you happy there?" Trey asked.

"Was I happy in Chino? It's just different. But they don't hit and they barely even yell." Ryan thought about it for a second. "Though they do like to talk."

Trey laughed. "That's probably worse than getting hit for you."

Ryan laughed too. "Sometimes," he admitted.

Trey noticed Ryan glancing over at Marissa. "Yeah," Trey said, "you should get going. But you'll go see Arturo for me? Today?"

Ryan pursed his lips. "I said I would."

They stood up and Trey hugged Ryan. "I really appreciate this."

As Trey watched Ryan leave with Marissa, he wondered what Ryan was going to do with the princess. He sure as hell couldn't take her to Gattas's. Ryan was a smart kid – he probably knew that. Trey hoped he knew that.


Trey returned to his cell. Now all he could do was wait for Ryan to come back to let him know everything went according to plan. Hope that everything went according to plan. Maybe he shouldn't have asked Ryan to do it. Ryan from Chino could do it. But this was Ryan from Newport. They were different. Trey could see it. Sure, they both wore chinos with button-down shirts over wife-beaters. But the chinos weren't $15 from Wal-mart, the wife-beaters weren't three-to-a-pack for $10, and the button-down didn't come from the Salvation Army thrift shop.

Everyone always said Ryan was too good for Chino. Not that Ryan acted it – Ryan never acted like he deserved anything – but everyone just knew. There was something about him. And he got out. He got a chance at something no one could ever imagine. A chance to make something of himself. Become what everyone knew he could be. But now Trey was pulling him back into it. Back into Chino, and crime, and poverty, and everything he needed to get away from.

What kind of big brother was he? Ryan acted more like the big brother, always getting Trey out of scrapes, looking out for him. Trey was like the little brother, doing whatever he wanted and waiting for someone – Ryan – to come along and clean up after him.

No more. Ryan seemed happy where he was. Happy enough to be worried he might lose it if he did what Trey asked. But he did do it. He did what Trey asked. He sacrificed himself for Trey's life. And now Trey would have to return the favour.

Trey picked up the comic book Ryan had brought him. Trey wasn't normally much of a reader, but anything was a distraction in jail. He was completely absorbed in the comic when a guard came to get him. "You've got visitors again, Atwood."

Trey was at the picnic table again, waiting for Ryan to come in. Marissa was trailing behind him. "Hey little brother," Trey said, and then he noticed Ryan's face. "What happened to you?"

"What the hell do you think happened to me, Trey? Gattas happened to me."

"I'm sorry, man."

"You know what, Trey? No. Car's delivered, debt's paid. But I am never doing anything for you again, understand?

I'm sorry, man.

I coulda been arrested, they coulda killed me.

I know. But I also know that no one else would've done this for me. But I get it. We're done.

Well, I'll come by to see you.

Don't. You've got a chance, little brother. You gotta leave me behind. Leave all this behind.

Take care of yourself.

Yeah. Well, you should jet. You got people waiting for you.

Trey and Ryan hugged, and then Trey watched him walk away with Marissa, away from his Chino life and back to his Newport life.


The next day on the exercise yard, Gonzalez and his goons approached Trey. "Your little brother broke Gattas's nose."

Trey eyed Gonzalez warily. "So what of it?"

"So Gattas needs some compensation." And with that, the two goons held Trey as Gonzalez beat Trey to unconsciousness.

As they were dropping him, just before he passed out, Trey smiled to himself and thought, Ryan broke Gattas's nose? There is still some Chino left in him.