Lawn Boy Returns Read Online Free

to get this color. I spent all day in the bathroom doing my hair.”
    I bet.
    I mentally kicked myself for having forgotten about Grandma all day. The last time I’d seen her was earlier that morning after she arrived at my house with Zed. She’d gone to take a nap, and—well, even for Grandma, who loves resting her eyes like most people love converting oxygen to carbon dioxide, that wasn’t an all-day proposition.
    “What’s that?” I suspiciously eyed the spray bottle she pulled out of her purse.
    “Diluted leftover dye. C’mere, sweetie, and let me spritz you so that you have Joey Pow red hair too.”
    “No, thanks, I’m good with brown.”
    “Suit yourself.” Grandma shoved the spray bottle back into her purse and looked at her watch. I don’t know why, because it’s broken. But she says she feels lost without it, and she won’t get it fixed because her wrist would feel naked while the watch was at the repair place. “We’d better get to theauditorium if we don’t want to miss the fight. And did I ever tell you that those little sticky notes were really an accident when someone was trying to come up with adhesive?” She sailed off, a beacon of red, toward the back door and her car. I’ve driven with Grandma before, so I was just as happy to hitch a ride with Joey. I turned to him; he was looking after Grandma, smiling.
    “Grandma is wonderful.” He tore off his gloves with his teeth and gathered his gear in a duffel bag.
    “Wonderful. Colorful. Whatever. C’mon, Joe, we’ve got to get going or we’ll be late for your fight.”
    He grabbed Rock on the way out. Literally. Reached over, plucked Rock off the bench where he’d been cowering and reeking of urinal cakes and dragged him behind us like a toddler dragging a security blanket.

6
Brains Good, Brawn Sometimes Better
    Joey and Rock and I enjoyed a silent ride to the auditorium downtown. Joey dropped me off at the VIP door and I flashed my sponsor’s badge at the guard. Joey and Rock drove around the back entrance to the locker room.
    I spotted Grandma near the ring right away. I wished I’d worn sunglasses. She was chatting with Arnold, Kenny and Allen. They’re not shy, but they were all looking at the ground while they talked with her. The glare from her head was too much for them.
    Savannah, Gib, Frank and Lindy huddled together, each of them frantically thumb-typing on their BlackBerrys. Were they tending to my empire even during a social event? That was good, because I was taking the evening off to enjoy the fight. I turned around and saw Pasqual, Louis and Benny—who’d started working for us a week before and was fast becoming indispensable—and their wives. Behind them were about twelve guys from the yard crew. We all high-fived each other.
    We took our seats in the sponsor’s box, which was the two front rows behind Joey’s corner of the ring. Kenny and Allen almost lost their minds when Arnold told them that the concession food was free to my guests. They ordered one of everything. I was too nervous to eat; I kept remembering how sad Joey had been when he’d talked about the fight earlier that day. I’m new to the prizefighting game, but there was something about the look in his eye that worried me.
    After what felt like forever, the houselights went down and an announcer’s voice boomed through the auditorium, introducing the two fighters, who entered the arena from the locker rooms on opposite sides. In one spotlight, I saw Joey in his red robeand trunks. He was dragging Rock after him. Zed swaggered behind, bringing up the rear.
    Zed.
    I felt a nasty chill run up my spine. Why did I get such a bad feeling from this guy? Besides the fact that he was a dirty, lying mooch, of course.
    I ran over to the corner and shouted in Joey’s ear over the roar of the crowd, “What’s Zed doing here?”
    “While I fight, Zed and Rock can supervise each other.”
    The audience booed and cheered as Bruiser Bulk climbed into the