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Chapter 15

“Rocco is my friend, Mom. I like hanging out with him. He didn’t kill anybody.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him, son,” my mother said.

“He’s bad news,” Dad added.

I stood. “Jesus! Listen to yourselves.”

“Watch your language,” my mother threatened.

“Or what? You’ll ground me?”

“Jay, don’t talk to your mother that way.”

“That’s it!” my mother yelled, hovering over me and waving her fingers in my face. “You only leave this house for school. Do you understand me? You’re grounded until further notice.”

I rolled my eyes and kicked a trashcan filled with wadded tissues and a week-old apple core across the room.

“Clean up this room,” my mother demanded. “It smells like a landfill.” She slammed my bedroom door shut just as I picked up a tennis ball from the floor and hurled it at the closed door.

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