Lexi shoots back, “Trust you like you obviously trust me?” Sarcasm drips from her voice.
I stand by the doorway and listen in on the heated exchange.
“Michael, you can’t keep cutting school like this. Mr Gilbert called me four times last week to let me know you’ve been tardy, and I’m seriously not happy with lying to your principal.” A pause, then more softly, “We had a deal. You keep your phone on you so I can contact you at all times. You really have no idea how much freedom I’m giving you, sweetie. Would you like to know why I treat you differently?”
I peek in.
Michael keeps his face lowered, arms crossed over his chest, chin squared in teenaged-defiance, while Lexi scoots closer to him and says quietly, “It’s because you’re smart, Mickey. I’ve been your case worker for two years now and I know smart when I see it. I also know that people are going to do what they can to make life easier, so I have to tell you how disappointed I am that Sam saw you the other day.”
Michael’s eyes widen, head still lowered. He shifts around nervously and swallows hard.
Lexi’s sadness sounds through her voice. “I thought you weren’t going to deal anymore. We had an agreement.”
Michael stays quiet a long time before he whispers, “Sometimes good people have to do bad things. It’s nothing personal. It’s just life, Miss Ballentine.”
Geez. That’s rough. But he hit the nail right on the head.
I’ve decided I like this kid. And Lexi was right; he is smart.
Reacting without thinking, I stride into the office. Lexi looks up and her eyes widen. She smiles warmly before her face turns to stunned disbelief. Rushing over to me, she hisses, “What are you doing here?”
Placing a hand up to stop her from talking, I move to stand in front of Michael. “Stand up, boy.”
Still sitting with his arms crossed, he looks me up and down with a curled lip before rolling his eyes and standing with a huff.
I ask, “How old are you?”
Looking to the side playing the I’m so uninterested that I’m getting distracted card, he replies, “I’ll be seventeen next week.”
“You need money?”
His face snaps up to mine.
Yeah.
I know desperation when I see it.
I state, “You need money.” Making a snap decision, I tell him, “You just quit dealing. Tell Frank or Hamid that you’re not dealing anymore. You tell them that you work for Twitch now and they won’t give you shit.”
Michael’s eyes widen comically, obviously shocked that I know the name of two of Sydney’s biggest dealers. He stutters, “Wh-wh-why? You don’t even know me. Why would you hire me?”
Not missing a beat, I respond, “’Cause Lexi’s right. You’re too f**king smart to be a low-time drug dealer on the streets of Sydney. Come work for me and we’ll turn you into something better. You won’t be doing anything great at the start, but you got to start somewhere.”
He eyes the tattoos on my neck, then looks down at the tattoos on my hands. His eyes move back up to my face and I know he’s looking at the small thirteen tattooed on my cheek bone.
He’s caving. And quick. I guess I expected more of a fight from him.
I ask firmly, “You in or out? ‘Cause if you’re out, I’ll just let you know that you’ll never get another opportunity like this again. I look after my employees, Michael, that’s why they don’t leave me.”
Michael looks unsure for a second. He asks, “What’s in it for you?”
My lip twitches.
Smart kid. I knew I liked him.
“A young employee who likes to learn. Someone with a fresh, untainted mind that I can teach without having to unteach the shit you’ve been taught. An employee who will work his way up. An employee who might even be me one day.”
Michael’s eyes have become both hopeful and wistful, and I know I’ve got him.
He nods and I smile gently, “Good.” Handing him a business card, I explain, “This is your new workplace. You’ll come every day after school and work with me ‘til eight PM. I’ll take you home myself, so you don’t need to worry about that. If, at the end of the year, you decide working with me is some place you see yourself in the future, you can quit school and I’ll pay for furthering your education through TAFE or university. Sound good?”
His face holds a look of disbelief and he nods slowly. Looking at his clothes, I tell him, “And dress nice, Michael.”
His face falls and I could smack myself.
That was insensitive.
Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my wallet. I take out five hundred-dollar bills and place them in his hand. “Like I was saying. Dress nice. And get a haircut too. You look like a freakin’ hippy.”
Dumbfounded.
That’s the only word I could use to explain his expression.
He blinks down at the money, gripping it tightly. Recovering quickly, he says, “Thank you…”
“Twitch,” I offer, then quickly add, “But you’ll call me Mr. T.”
Looking up at me, he utters, “Thanks, Mr. T. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”
I offer a small piece of my true self when I threaten, “You won’t disappoint me, Michael. It would be very stupid of you to disappoint me.”
Looking a little fearful, he says quietly, “Yes, sir.”
Yes, sir.
I like that. This was a good idea.
“And if you have the slightest inkling that you’re going to be late, even by a minute…” I wait to make sure he’s listening. He nods quickly for me to continue. “…You call me and you call Miss Ballentine. I don’t care what time of night or day it is. You f**king call. Got it?”
He nods vigorously. Wanting to put him at ease, I place a hand on his head and ruffle his scraggly brown hair. “Okay, boy. You’re dismissed. See you Monday.”
With his eyes to the money in his hand, he picks up his school bag and walks out of the office, closing the door behind him.
I inhale deeply, then exhale slowly, hoping that I somehow haven’t made the wrong decision.
The boy is smart. He’s quick with his words but has respect. He’ll do nicely.
“What was that?” Ah. Lexi.
Fiddling with a cuff link, I tell her, “You were here, babe. Just gave the boy a job.”
Walking across the office, she stands toe-to-toe with me.
And it makes me smile. A real smile.