Arsen didn’t know what sins Jericho was trying to atone for, but he took it seriously. Jericho had saved him—saved all of them—and Arsen would spend his life making sure that Jericho didn’t regret wasting his time with someone like him. To most people, a six-hundred-square-foot apartment over a noisy garage might have seemed like a punishment, but to Arsen, it was everything he’d ever wanted. Freedom. Safety. A home.
Arsen knocked on Jericho’s office door. “Can we talk?”
Jericho tilted his head, frowning, “Sure. What’s up, kid?”
Arsen flopped into the chair across from Jericho. “Can I have the day off?”
Jericho arched a brow. “I don’t think you’ve ever asked for a day off in your whole life. Everything okay?”
Arsen contemplated lying to Jericho, but that never ended well. “I screwed up with Ever, and I want to make it up to him.”
Jericho scrutinized him closely. “Screwed up how?”
“I don’t know exactly. I already told Felix. I’m sure it’s all over the group chat by now.” Jericho opened his mouth, but Arsen raised his hand. “Please, don’t make me tell the story again. I already feel terrible. I-I hurt his feelings. That’s all. So, now, I want to do something nice for him.”
“Like…?” Jericho prompted.
Arsen stopped short. He hadn’t expected a follow-up question. He probably should have. “Well, Felix pointed out that there’s a lot of stuff Ever’s never gotten to do. So, I thought I could take him to do some of them.”
Jericho gave him a barely-there smile. “What did you have in mind?”
Arsen shrugged. “I thought I’d start with the library—he seems to like books—then maybe take him to the bodega to buy candy?” When Jericho opened his mouth, Arsen hurried to say, “I know it’s not much, but when I have more money, I can take him to do better things like the zoo or a museum or—I don’t know—a concert or a trip?”
Arsen’s insides withered as he realized that his lack of funds was going to be a barrier to some of the things Ever had never experienced. But those were things that Arsen had also never experienced. Most of his money went to a savings account he couldn’t touch until he turned thirty. A way to force himself to save money.
Jericho studied him in a way that made Arsen feel like he was in trouble. Finally, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, peeling off several hundred dollars before offering them to Arsen.
Arsen stared at the wad of cash. “What is this?”
Jericho smiled. “Consider it my and Atticus’s contribution to Ever’s fun fund.”
Arsen pushed the money back at Jericho. “That is too much.”
Jericho shook his head, shaking the money in his hand in Arsen’s face. “It’s really not. You know Atticus spends more than this on socks. Besides, if he were here, he’d probably try to buy Ever a house or a pony or something. He doesn’t emote much, but he definitely likes to throw money at things.”
Arsen’s chest felt tight. What Jericho said was true. Atticus thought nothing of spending money. He’d purchased the spot next to the garage to turn it into a safe space for Jericho’s kids. He bought an animal shelter when he learned they were about to become a kill shelter. Atticus had been clinically diagnosed as a psychopath but he had a soft spot for animals and children, which made him okay in Arsen’s book.
“Are you sure?” Arsen finally said. Who was he to turn down money on Ever’s behalf anyway?
Jericho nodded. “Take him to the bookstore. Let him buy whatever he wants. He should know what it’s like to have things that are just his.”
“Okay.”
Jericho snapped his fingers. “And get him some clothes. Let him pick them out himself. Other essentials, too, like shampoo, soap, stuff like that. Things we take for granted. You remember what it was like in foster care. They throw all your shit in a garbage bag. Nothing ever feels like yours. I imagine what that bitch did to him was far worse.”
Arsen nodded, wordlessly taking the money. Arsen had only spent a few months in foster care before he’d run away, but it had been hell on earth. While not every foster home was terrible, there were a lot of people who used it as a way to make money, pocketing the stipend they were given and treating the children in their care like animals.
His former foster family had been abusive, even more so than his own father. When he’d run away, they’d never even reported him missing. Arsen bet they’d still taken those checks. His case worker had never once shown up to check on him. They just didn’t have the numbers to do so, and some foster parents counted on their absence to run their schemes.
“Oh, take him to Hollister’s for breakfast. Let him order whatever he wants. Remember how much you loved that place the first time we took you?”
“Yeah,” Arsen said, a faint smile forming. Jericho had taken a group of them in the middle of the night. They’d barely been thirteen. They’d run amok. The only thing that had kept them from being booted out that first night was Jericho’s reputation and the money they’d dropped in there.
Arsen stood. “Thanks.”
He was almost to the door when Jericho said, “Bring his headphones. If he gets overwhelmed, he’s going to need them.”
Jericho always thought of everything. The world outside the garage was far noisier than the garage itself. Noises that Arsen took for granted—police sirens, construction work, preachers on the corner with bullhorns screaming about eternal damnation—would be too much stimulation for Ever.
