On Sunday, I'm not allowed to leave the house. That same rules apply on Monday until I prove that I can walk fine without falling over. Tuesday, I am back in school (which I never thought I would be grateful for) as long as Anthony sends her a text saying that I'm okay ever hour that he sees me. I'm still not allowed my phone.

When Wednesday rolls around, I am itching to get out from under my mother's fingers.

At my locker after school, Peter comes up to me. "How's the arm healing?"

I look down at it. Mama decided that it didn't need stitches, but it's still barely coming together. I close my locker and walk with Peter to his, hoping that Anthony won't think to look for me there. I'm really really tired of having him as a silent escort.

"It's okay," I tell him. "I'm just hoping that my mother will let me out from under her thumb."

"You did get pretty hurt, right?" Peter asks. "What happened exactly, anyway? Anthony said you fell on a bus?"

I almost laugh. "Basically."

He scratches the back of his neck, a smile on his lips. "Anyway. I was wondering if you wanted to come over."

Even though I promised myself that I would create distance between Peter and myself, I can't help but internally jump up and down at the idea of leaving the school ground and my house. Still, I keep my cool.

"Let me call my mama first."

We walk over to Anthony's locker. There, he stands and stares at me blankly.

"Can you call my Mama and let me use the phone?" I ask him. It's the first time we've really spoken.

He nods, and dials her, handing over the phone.

During the call, I bargain with Mama. I give her Aunt May's number, who is going to be at Peter's, and I promise that he will escort me home after we are done hanging out.

Even though I want to go exploring, I resign myself to these rules.

Finally, I hand Anthony back the phone. Peter doesn't ask any questions about our silence, and I'm glad. I don't know how I would explain this.

As we go on the subway, we chat about classes. Mostly about what I've missed, which actually isn't much. The whole time, my mind floats off elsewhere. Much of it is about Spider-man, and what I'm going to do about that. I've become resigned to my relationship with Anthony, and I don't stick my nose in Dantae's business even though I want to.

Peter provides me with a nice distraction from my chaotic life.

Once we get back to his place, we say hi to Aunt May. We chill on the floor of the living room, debating over which movie to watch. I say something action related, even though it will probably make me sad that I'm not in good enough shape to run. He wants a comedy.

"Aren't you worried I will bust a rib laughing?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow.

He grins and shakes his head. "I don't think so. You're pretty tough. It would literally take being hit by a car to rattle you."

I laugh, mostly because he is right.

His phone buzzes, and he furrows his brow. He picks it up, and his forehead creases. "It's for you. It's your brother."

I take the phone from him and hang up. I don't need him constantly checking in on me. Then, it occurs to me that it might be Sergio calling again because my brother is wasted. Disaster follows me like a magnet.

"What was that about?" Peter asks, furrowing a brow.

I shrug, trying to keep my cool. My leg starts jittering. "You know my brother. He'll call back if it was important."

"That was Dantae, right? How'd he even get my number?" Peter asks.

Before I can answer, my phone rings again. This time I pick up.

"What's up?" I ask, closing my eyes for a brief second.

Dantae's ragged breath comes in through the other end. Oh God, he's crying. "Darcy, I need you."

"Oh God, did you tell Mama and Papa that, that you're..."

He doesn't answer. A beat pauses, and another beat, and I feel my heart sinking. What happened? Oh God, oh God.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I let Peter try to help me relax. Nothing calms me like my brother and he is freaking out.

There is a shuffling on the other end of the phone. I can't tell if it's been dropped, or if Dantae is being shoved. Wait, is he drunk? I can't figure out what is going on.

"Dantae?" I ask, my voice getting louder.

I hear footsteps enter the room, and look up to see Aunt May looking down at me.

"It's... ummm... it's Sergio," Sergio's voice is trembling too. It's high-pitched and squeaky. "Dantae... he passed me the phone. I'm not sure why he called you. He's breaking down on the hospital floor."

I get up and race over to the front door. I grab my jacket and begin to put it on. Peter races after me, putting on his jacket too. He mouths something to me, but I don't bother to pay attention to it.

"What happened?" I ask, my grip around the phone tightening until my knuckles turn white. My voice is ragged too. "Is he alright?"

"Oh, it's not him," Sergio races through the words, his previous stutter finally dissipating. "It's... uhhh..." I spoke too soon. "It's Manu. Manu's... Manu's been shot."

I grip on to my phone, nodding my head. "I'll be right there."

There is more shuffling on the other end, as my brother takes back the phone. "Do not come alone. Okay, Darcy? I don't... shit the last thing I need right now is Mama's wrath. Bring that gay kid, or whatever."

He hangs up, and I put the phone back in my pocket.

While I wrap my hand around the door handle, Peter grabs me around the wrist. He pulls me in closer to him, looking me up and down. "What's wrong, Darcy?"

Shit. I really don't want to drag him into this. I look up at Aunt May, standing in the doorway. Without even reading her mind, I know what she's thinking. She's concerned, maybe for me but probably for her nephew. She doesn't want him to hang around with someone like me, who is always pulling him into trouble.

"Is it Anthony again?" Peter asks.

I shake my head back and forth. "My brother is in the hospital. His friend is really hurt, and he wants me there."

"Which one?" Peter asks me. He turns around to face Aunt May. "They helped us when Anthony's Dad went berserk."

"Manu," I answer.

Peter looks from me to Aunt May. "Her mother is going to have my head in if she goes alone, because of the whole, near concussion thing. Is it alright if I go with her?"

Aunt May nods. She grabs the keys off a hook on the door and begins to slip into her coat. "I'll drive you both."

I don't really care to protest, because the quicker I get there, the better. We go down the elevator and head off to the hospital. The whole drive there, Peter holds my hand. I want to stop him, but I am too panicked to care. All I can think about is Manu. Where was he shot? Is he going to be okay? How much is this going to cost? Is the state going to pay for it? Will the state pay for his funeral? What will my brother do if something else goes off the rails?

We get to the hospital, and Peter thanks his Ant. Once we head inside and figure out which wing we are supposed to be going to, we arrive in the right waiting room.

My brother and his best friend sit in two chairs, Sergio's head on Dantae's shoulder. Alessandria, Sergio's little sister, is here too. Her head is in Sergio's lap. I approach them, realize that I'm still holding Peter's hand, and pull away. My brother looks up at me, tears in his eyes.

The only other person in the waiting room is a woman in a suit. I assume she is Manu's case manager or whatever they call her. She's talking to a doctor in hushed tones.

"Have you heard anything?" I ask my brother. I kneel down beside him and take his hands into mine. When I do, my shoulders become tense, and I feel my own eyes well with tears.

My brother just shrugs, jostling Sergio.

Sergio looks at me and shakes his head. "No."

We stand together in silence, before Peter nudges me, and moves to sit across from them. I follow him, like a lost ghost. My mind keeps floating back to Manu. Was he scared? Is he okay? Will he be okay eventually?

At some point, Anthony arrives. He doesn't talk to me, instead moving and sitting beside Sergio and my brother. I remember that the four of them have been hanging out lately. Anthony wrings his hands, a nervous habit, before he puts his head between his knees. My brother's all cried out, but it seems that Anthony is only getting started.

Eventually, the woman in the suit comes over to us. She pulls Sergio aside, and whispers something to him. Then, she curtly leaves the waiting room. Sergio stands still, his hands limp at his side.

I hold a breath. I don't breathe the whole time that he stands.

Eventually, Anthony gets up and helps Sergio sit back down. I breathe out and in, only once, sharply. Peter holds my hand. I'm too frozen to say yes or no, too frozen to think yes or no. There is only his physical presence, not any want for or against. Only need, and I guess I need it.

"He's... he's alive," Sergio finally manages.

My brother doesn't look at him. Instead, he stares forward.

"But, he might never walk again," Sergio finally says. "It hit him in the spine. They've done a surgery, but it doesn't look good."

"He's alive," Anthony echoes. He puts his head in his hands, speaking through them. "Thank God he's alive."

"Yeah," my brother says.

I don't know what else to say to make him feel better. That was always his job. This isn't a situation where I bake him cookies and everything goes back to normal.

So, I sit in silence.