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know how to thank you,” Kennin said.
    â€œHey, no problem,” Leon said. “I know you’d do the same for me. There’s just one thing.” He placed a small glassine envelope and a bloodstained cotton ball on the kitchen counter. “I don’t have to tell you what this means, right?”
    Kennin felt a deep ache inside. Here was the undeniable proof that Shinchou was doing serious drugs. Just as Neilson had said.
    â€œSorry to give you the bad news,” Leon said. “But I thought you’d want to know.”
    Kennin nodded slowly, feeling the weight of this new problem press down onto his shoulders.
    Leon pulled out a pen and wrote something down. “Here’s my phone number and Sista Bertha’s address. You want me to help, just let me know.”
    â€œThanks.” Kennin took the slip of paper.
    â€œYou’re wondering what’s in this for me, right?” Leon asked with a smile.
    Kennin nodded.
    â€œI was once your age and on my own too,” Leon said. “So I know how messed up that can be. If it wasn’t for a couple of folks who took pity and helped me out, I wouldn’t be here today. So I’m just tryin’ to do the same for you.”
    â€œI appreciate it,” Kennin said. “I really do. And thanks again for helping me clean up.”
    â€œNo prob.” Leon picked up the garbage bag. “I’ll just take this with me. Good luck, dawg.”
    Leon left. Kennin stared down at the glassine envelope and the bloody cotton ball. Jack had an ironclad grip on his sister now. As if the five-grand loan and weekly vig wasn’t enough, now the bastard had her on crystal meth. Kennin could feel the anger rising in him again. And what about the crash? Jack made it sound like it wasn’t an accident. Normally, Kennin thought Jack was full of crap, but not this time. The night of the drift battle Jack had told him to tank the second heat. When Kennin won it instead, the guy was furious and warned him not to even think about winning the last heat. But Jack had no reason to think Kennin would listen. So he could have done something to make sure Kennin wouldn’t win. Especially if there was serious money on the line.

4
    at Dorado High the next day, Kennin leaned on his crutches and watched Tito in the crowd of guys moving to their next classes. Tito’s head was turned toward Mutt, and he was talking excitedly. “The tsuiso thing is over, dude. After what happened to Kennin the cops are doing a full-court press. And it doesn’t matter anyway, because the Babylon’s opening a drift track. The future’s gonna be tandem drifting. Two guys on a course, running full-on side by side, showing the judges what they can do.”
    Mutt winced slightly. “I don’t know about side by side. Sounds like a recipe for some serious bang-ups.”
    â€œSure, if
amateurs
drive,” Tito said. “But we’re talking professionals. Guys who really know how to drift. That’s the whole idea of a team. It’s why the Babylon’s building a track. Dude, just imagine it. Unlimited seat time. Hours and hours to practice drifting without the cops and crowds and kooks.”
    â€œSounds great,” Kennin said.
    Tito looked up with a shocked expression. “Wha’?”
    â€œYou look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Kennin said.
    â€œI—I—,” Tito stammered. “I just didn’t expect to see
you.
When’d you get out?”
    â€œYesterday,” Kennin said.
    â€œHow’s the leg?” Mutt asked.
    â€œStill attached,” said Kennin.
    â€œThat’s no joke, dude,” Mutt said. “I mean, if you’d seen the wreck. Everyone thought you were toast.”
    â€œSo I hear,” said Kennin.
    The bell rang, and the bodies in the hallway picked up speed toward their next classes.
    â€œGotta book,” Tito said a little too quickly. Something