Chapter 3

Leo reached for the seat beside him. “You want my jacket, Sam? You can bring it up to me tomorrow sometime.”

Samir shook his head. “Someone’s in your spot.”

He’d said “spot” with enough of a spit that Leo could tell he was hoping for drama. A good shout off between neighbours was pretty entertaining to a bunch of kids too young to venture far enough away to find actual fun.

“What do you mean?” Leo asked, even though he knew exactly what Samir meant. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last someone had ignored the numbers on the parking spaces and grabbed his empty one. That’s what happened when your parking spot was too close to the entrance.

Samir wiped his nose and pointed with the same slicked-up hand. “You know what. Number eight. Your parking spot. That white car with the throwing star on it.” He looked at Leo, eyes sparkling. “You gonna tear them up?”