Five Boroughs 01 - Sutphin Boulevard by Santino Hassell Read Free Book Online Page A

tightened with anxiety as I replayed every furious word Nunzio had said. I agreed with each one.
    Defeated, I reentered the bar. I paid for Nunzio’s drink and asked Miranda to open a tab. If I was going to get through the night—and the summer—with my sanity intact, it was going to take a lot of amber liquid, suds, and eventually something with a higher proof.

Chapter Four
     
     
    September
     
    A PIERCING beep jolted me out of sleep, and on reflex, I groped for the offending device to hurl it across the room. I lay there taking deep breaths, trying to will the room to stop spinning. After several minutes I couldn’t tell if the dizziness had receded or if I’d just acclimated myself to the sensation after several weeks of waking up in a similar state.
    My phone chimed from across the room, and I stumbled to my feet to find it. I was pantless but still in a faux-military shirt that was now missing several buttons—not that I remembered how they’d been ripped off. I bent to retrieve my phone, and my foot caught in the comforter that was hanging off the bed. I stumbled and looked down at the screen.
    The alert flashed 6:45—Work, but that was impossible. At least, I convinced myself it was until I saw the date in the corner of the screen.
    September 2.
    I was due back in the school building at 8:40 a.m.
    “Hijo de la gran puta—”
    I fumbled with the phone, trying to solve the kindergarten-level mathematics that my alarm app required to shut it off. If I couldn’t handle two plus two, I had no idea how I was going to survive the day of professional development on school safety and inquiry-based strategies to the Common Core while getting screwed dry by the Regents. Jesus Christ, how had I forgotten the date?
    I managed to mash the right number into the keypad and sat on the edge of my bed, strongly debating calling out. It wasn’t even a matter of being late; I just lacked the mental preparedness to return to teacher mode. There was a Bloody Mary at an outdoor café somewhere on Broadway with my name on it. Going to work sounded like a nightmare.
    I took a deep breath, but the phone exploded with sound before I could find any kind of Zen.
    Nunzio.
    Somehow that surprised me, even though it made perfect sense. He’d returned from Italy in mid-August, but we hadn’t seen each other since our argument in front of the bar. Our communication had been nonexistent while he’d been away, which was more my fault than his.
    I chewed on my lower lip and let the phone ring four times before picking up. “Hey.”
    “Rise and shine, rock star!”
    I lay back on the bed with a groan, squeezing my eyes shut. “You’re so fucking loud.”
    “As always,” he said, still sounding entirely too chipper. “Want me to meet you in Midtown? I wanna get to school by 8:00 so I can check out the state of my classroom. I don’t know what those morons did over the summer, and you know damn well we won’t have much time to set up today or tomorrow.”
    “I’m not even alive yet. I’ll get there at 8:39.”
    “C’mon, Mikey. Don’t leave me hanging. I’ll even get the good bagels.”
    Bread sounded like a good idea, but I rolled over and shoved my face into the mattress. “You think Price will be pissed if I call out?”
    “Is that a trick question?”
    “Ugh.”
    A rustling sounded and then the squeak of his shower turning on. I wondered if he’d been talking to me while having his morning piss.
    “Get up, Michael. Don’t mess around and start the school year like this. You know how they got with us last year.”
    Did I ever. Angela Price—our principal—had caught on to the fact that Nunzio and I were coming in late and calling out on the same days, and had thrown a shit fit about professionalism. It had only been a handful of times, and I hadn’t even chipped a dent into my cache of fifty-plus sick days, but our dynamic duo was starting to bug her in general.
    “All right, all right. I’m getting