Jason walked into Bay Ridge High the next morning like nothing had changed. Same hallways, same lockers, same smell of industrial cleaner and teenage desperation. The only difference was the eight hundred thousand dollars sitting in a storage unit across the river.
"Dude, you look way too calm for someone who just lost his family's emergency fund," Marco said, falling into step beside him.
"Who said I lost?"
Marco stopped walking. "What do you mean? Northwestern State won sixty-five to sixty-three. You needed sixty-four to sixty-three."
"I had more than one bet."
"What kind of bets?"
Jason opened his locker and grabbed his chemistry book. "The kind that worked out."
Before Marco could ask more questions, Elizabeth Watkin appeared at his shoulder with that same lingering smile she'd been using since the fight.
"Hey Jason. I was wondering if you wanted to study together for the chemistry test? I could really use some help with molecular bonds."
Marco's eyebrows shot up. Elizabeth Watkin had never spoken to either of them before this week, and now she was offering to study with Jason.
"I'm pretty busy these days," Jason said, closing his locker.
"Oh. Well, maybe another time?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and walked away, glancing back over her shoulder.
Marco waited until she was out of earshot. "Dude, Elizabeth Watkin just asked you to study. Do you know how many guys would kill for that?"
"Probably the same number who would have killed to go to prom with Angela Ricci."
"Right, about that. Are you gay? Because it would explain a lot."
Jason started walking toward first period. "I'm not gay."
"Then what's your deal? You beat up the three toughest guys in school, now you're turning down the hottest girls like they've got the plague."
"Maybe I have different priorities."
"Like what?"
"Like not getting distracted by high school bullshit."
Marco grabbed his arm. "Jason, this is high school. This IS our life right now. What else is there?"
Everything, Jason thought. There's a whole world out there that you can't even imagine.
"Come on, we're going to be late."
After morning classes, Jason headed to his usual lunch table where Marco was already waiting with his basketball and a sandwich that looked like it contained an entire deli.
Jason sat down and pulled out an envelope from his backpack. He slid it across the table to Marco.
"What's this?" Marco opened it and his eyes went wide. "Holy shit, is this real money?"
"Two thousand dollars. Your slice for being a good friend."
Marco stared at the cash like it might bite him. "My slice of what? Jason, what the hell is going on?"
"Don't ask me questions."
"Don't ask questions? You just handed me two grand! Where did this come from?"
"I told you not to ask questions."
Marco looked around the cafeteria, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Are you working for the mob or something?"
"The mob?"
"I don't know, man! You beat up three guys without breaking a sweat, you're suddenly making crazy money, and now you're handing out cash like some kind of gangster. What am I supposed to think?"
Jason almost laughed. If only Marco knew how close he was to the truth. "I'm not working for the mob."
"Then where did this money come from?"
"I told you not to ask questions."
"That's not an answer!"
"It's the only answer you're going to get."
Marco stared at the envelope in his hands, then at his best friend. "Jason, this is serious money. This isn't lunch money or birthday cash. This is the kind of money that comes with strings attached."
"No strings. Just don't spend it all in one place, and don't tell anyone where you got it."
"Not tell anyone? My mom's going to want to know where I got two thousand dollars."
"Tell her you found it."
"Found it?"
"On the street. In a bag. I don't care what you tell her, just don't mention my name."
Marco was quiet for a long moment, processing what his best friend was telling him. "This is crazy, you know that, right? Three weeks ago you were normal Jason, and now you're handing out money like some kind of high school crime boss."
"People change."
"Not like this. Not this fast."
Before Jason could respond, the cafeteria doors opened and Principal Martinez walked in, scanning the room like he was looking for someone specific. His eyes settled on Jason's table and he started walking over.
"Mr. DuPont," Martinez said when he reached them. "Could I speak with you in my office, please?"
Marco quickly shoved the envelope into his backpack and shot Jason a worried look.
"Am I in trouble?"
"Not trouble, exactly. But we need to discuss some concerns that have been brought to my attention."
"What kind of concerns?"
Martinez glanced around the cafeteria, where other students were starting to stare. "The kind we should discuss privately."