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out of the game. But for Walker, no one was off-limits.” His stare was intense. “I can’t wait to lock him up.”
    Maybe I was wrong about Prescott. Maybe it was personal for him, too.

MO MONDAY
    M onday morning started with another test, but this time, I was ready. My brain was full, and when I saw the questions, I puked everything I knew onto the page.
    The classifications of life, according to my bio textbook: Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species . I had the urge to rewrite it, a classification of life projects-style: Kingpin, Executives, Lieutenants, Dealers, Ordinary People, Fiends . But I pushed those thoughts from my mind and focused on the test, flying through all five pages in good time. My memory for detail was solid, especially since I’d become an informant.
    When we were finished, we got to leave class early, so I stoppedby the music room. Filimino had a prep this period, and I found him behind a mountain of paper.
    â€œHey, Darren,” he said, raising his head. “You want to help me mark some tests?”
    â€œWhat’s in it for me?”
    He considered that. “A few hours of pulling your hair out. These freshmen don’t listen to a fucking word I say. I’m just going to use the Chinese method.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œIt’s where you throw the papers down the stairs and whatever lands farthest gets an A, and so on.”
    I wasn’t sure he was joking. Filimino was one of those teachers who broke all the rules. He bitched. He swore. He was always clashing with our uptight principal, and he once told me he wouldn’t have a job if it weren’t for the union saving his ass.
    â€œThere’s an orientation night coming up at Ryerson, if you’re interested. You can sign up at the guidance office.”
    â€œI’ll go next year. I’ve got plenty of time.”
    He shrugged. “I thought you might want to check out their equipment. You could always see what George Brown has to offer too.”
    It was cool that Filimino was thinking about my college options. He was the only adult in my life who actually took themusic production thing seriously. Mom thought it was a pointless hobby, not a career.
    Filimino knew how it was. He was a musician himself, and had toured all over the world with his band in the nineties. He played guitar and drums and wowed the class with what he could do.
    The bell rang, and I headed upstairs to economics. I caught sight of Jessica at her locker and said, “Hi.” Her eyes narrowed a bit, but then she said a lukewarm “Hi” back.
    I’d promised to call her. I was hoping she’d forget, but who was I kidding? Girls never forget. I’d heard my sister’s complaints enough to know that.
    I’d actually picked up the phone to call her last night, but then my conscience kicked in. I liked Jessica, and I didn’t want to screw her around. I was playing a dangerous game, and if she became my girlfriend, she could be at risk. That scared me.
    I hoped our time would come. But it couldn’t be now.
    Honor
    Honor’s what it’s called
    Kids don’t know what it means
    They wanna make the money
    supplyin’ all the fiends
    You think it’s all good
    You don’t even know it’s wrong
    Till it hits you in the face
    Like a brick in the face
    It hits you in the face
    Days in juvie sure are long.

THE INVESTMENT
    T hursday morning I got lucky. I snagged a seat on the bus, which saved me from getting elbowed by that old lady. Trey sat beside me, rambling on as usual. Smalls and Biggie were in front of us.
    â€œThis is the real deal.” Biggie caught the sunlight with his shiny new watch and reflected it all over the bus. “You know how many shifts I worked for this? Worth every minute.”
    Trey wasn’t impressed. “If that watch cost three hundred dollars plus tax and you make minimum wage, then you had to work seven