the hat away from her.
Rozelle grimaces and leans in. She cracks her peppermint gum like itâs some kind of threat.
I cringe, waiting for the blow to fall. Rozelle has been beating guys up since grade three, although sheâs never bothered with me before.
Her grimace twists into a half smile, lips closed.
âListen, I got a personal interest here.â She looks down and away, like sheâs embarrassed, and I wonder if sheâs faking it and why.
âWhat are you talking about?â
âI gotta show my brother I can be a good manager.â
Her tough face reappears. âNot that itâs any of your business. And if you go tellinâ anyone, Iâllâ¦â Her hands become fists, but she keeps them at her sides.
I step back. I canât imagine what her brother must be like. Or the rest of her family. âI donât knowââ
âWe can make a lot of money together.â She smiles and steps closer. Her fists relax. âIâll be a frickinâ awesome manager. Iâll make you famous. Anyway, you owe me for what you did in math class. Remember how you slammed into my boobs? Almost knocked me over? That was harsh. But you can make it up to me now.â She grabs my hand and shakes it like we just made a deal.
Her touch sends an electric shock through me. Her hand is surprisingly warm, firm and strong. I nod dumbly and immediately regret it.
âCool.â Rozelle grins. âIâll start makinâ plans. Be in touch soon.â She releases my hand and saunters away.
I watch her hips sway. Theyâre hypnotizing. My hand is still warm. My blood is pumping fast.
What have I done?
She disappears around the corner of the Iron Kettle Pub. I collapse onto the bench, clenching my hat full of money between white-knuckled fingers.
4
âHey, Peeper! Rozâs looking for you.â Sasha is posed beside Annetteâs locker like a skinny praying mantis about to pounce. âShe wants to talk.â
Annette smirks at me as she slams her locker closed. I pick up the pace, head down and jaw clenched, racing for the exit doorsâand freedomâpretending I donât hear.
âWhere you going?â Sasha calls.
âI think heâs going to spy on the girls in the change room.â Annette giggles and Sasha joins in.
The metal door clangs shut behind me, but the laughter still burns my ears.
When the door opens again, Iâm already scurrying away like the bug I am.
âRoz isnât going to like this!â Sasha calls from the doorway.
I race down the sidewalk and past the entrance to the subway, nails digging into my palms. Today I need to walk. I donât care if it takes hours to get home. I want time to think about how to get rid of Rozelle.
Thanks to her, the last three days have been hell. Iâve been skulking around the school, never sure when sheâll pin me down, try to make plans for my next show. I had to dart into washrooms to avoid her girls, and duck her double-barreled stare in classes.
At least itâs almost June. After school is over, Iâll be free of themâfor a while.
I slow down, in no hurry to get home, and clomp past rows of townhouses with wrought-iron gates and tiny yards. I hit a main street, still fuming. Why did I let her take my money? Why did I shake her hand? What exactly does she think I agreed to? Rozelle is a thief. A liar. A bully. I donât want anything to do with her.
I pass a homeless shelter, the front stairs crowded with sprawling men. Then a tattoo parlor, a Thai restaurant, a Greek bakery with the door openâthe smell of pastry and honey wafting out to tempt me.
My mouth waters, but Iâve brought none of my hard-earned cash, half of which Rozelle stole. I grind my teeth, wishing I hadnât told my yo-yo crowd when and where Iâd be back. Will they expect me to keep my word? What if I find a new place to perform, away from Rozelle? But I want