In the Middle of Somewhere (Middle of Somewhere, #1)(71)

Out of nowhere, someone grabs my shoulder and I wheel around and grab them around the neck.

It’s Leo, and he looks terrified.

“Shit, Leo,” I say, brushing him off and ripping out my earbuds. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, man.”

“Um, I was yelling your name, dude.”

I’ve got to stop listening to my music so loud.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“No worries!” he says, looking cheerful again. “So, how was Detroit? Did you go to any shows? How was your conference? What was your talk about again?”

Jesus, it’s too early in the morning to have that kind of energy.

“Detroit was fine. I didn’t have time for anything but the conference. My paper went fine. It was about—”

“Oh, I remember. About turn of the century sensationalism in American newspaper illustration, right?”

I only remember briefly mentioning anything about my paper when I stopped in to Mr. Zoo’s on Friday. I assumed Leo was just being polite when he asked, and I can’t believe he understood what I was talking about, much less remembered it.

“That’s right. How do you remember that?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Not that hard. Sounded interesting.” He’s bouncing a little, whether with energy or to keep warm, I’m not sure.

“What’re you doing out so early?” I ask.

“Oh, just wandering around,” Leo says. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either.”

“Then I saw you and figured I’d come say hi. Hey, you wanna get a coffee? I know you always go to Sludge before class.”

“How do you—? Never mind. Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

Marjorie greets me with a suspicious smile when I walk in the door with Leo. With no energy to resist her, I bite the bullet.

“I’ll have a Daniel, please.”

She looks disappointed for a moment, then smiles widely, as if she’s beaten me. And maybe she has. I don’t even have the energy to care.

“Ooh, yes, me too,” Leo says.

“Dude,” I say, sharing a look with Marjorie. “You’re already bouncing off the walls; the thought of you ingesting that much caffeine actually makes me fear for the safety of this town and everyone in it.”

“Nah, I’m good. Besides, coffee has a… whaddayacallit… paradoxical effect on me.”

“Huh?” says Marjorie.

“It, like, chills me out,” Leo says.

“Well, glory hallelujah, pour the kid some coffee,” I mutter.

A stocky kid in trendy clothes comes in behind us. Leo’s bouncing increases and his elegant nostrils flare.

“Two Daniels!” Marjorie announces gleefully, putting the drinks on the counter.

There’s a snort behind us.

“Trying to be just like your boyfriend, Leo? Good luck with that,” the guy in line behind us scoffs.

“Shut up, Todd!” Leo says, spinning around to look at him and almost knocking both coffees over with his backpack.

I put a hand on Leo’s twitching shoulder and turn to the kid behind us. I stand, looking at him. It’s the same vaguely threatening, totally unimpressed look that I gave Will last night, and this kid folds almost immediately, looking down at the expensive shoes I’m sure his parents bought him. Now that’s what’s supposed to happen.

“Excuse us,” I say calmly, sliding money across the counter to Marjorie and taking the coffees. I walk out the door, certain Leo will follow me.

“Ha!” Leo says, grinning, elbowing me as we get outside. “That was awesome. You just looked at him and he practically shit his pants. How’d you do that? I mean, you’re not even that big a guy and everyone’s terrified of you. You’ve got to teach me that.”

I decide to ignore the part about everyone being terrified of me, because I don’t even want to know.

“Well, first of all, you have to believe, one hundred percent, that you could take them out if it came down to a fight,” I tell him. “If you don’t believe it, they won’t either. That kind of confidence does 80 percent of the work for you. You look sure you could kick their ass, they’re gonna be thinking they have something to worry about. Second, you have to not give a shit. And it’s got to come from the inside out. If you’re faking it, they’ll know. Then the rest of it’s just staring at them. If you know you could win a fight and you don’t give a shit, the stare will do the rest of the work for you. Here, show me.”

I square off with Leo, taking his coffee. He’s only an inch or so shorter than me, but being that skinny, you’ve got to look all kinds of threatening to be taken seriously. I remember.

Leo laughs nervously, scuffing the toe of his Vans on the pavement.

“I’ve, um, never been in a fight.”

“What about the day I met you?” I’d kind of assumed that getting picked on was a regular occurrence for him, but maybe not.

“Oh, yeah, well. I’ve gotten my ass kicked, sure. But I’ve never actually thrown a punch.” He blushes and his eyelashes lower.

“Well, you’ve done the hardest part. It’s a lot easier to hit someone than it is to take a punch. I can teach you, if you want.” Wait, no. Is that irresponsible? But the kid’s got to learn to take care of himself or who knows what might happen to him.