Croak by Gina Damico

caught it, fumbled, and watched as it sailed gracefully to the ground.
    Lex, who had hoped to keep her athletic incompetence a secret for at least more than a day in this new town, sat down to stew and reflect on this maddening situation. Here she was, throwing her dinner off the roof in front of a strange kid with whom she’d soon be working in close proximity on a daily basis and who, for reasons she still couldn’t ascertain, was immune to her usual threats. How could she be partners with a boy who had so whimsically inserted himself into her life and who had the audacity to ignore her belligerence?
    Peeved, she gazed down into the valley at Croak’s few sparkling lights. She could just make out the craggy branches of the Ghost Gum in the moonlight, its nest a small dot against the dark sky.
    Driggs silently handed her the remainder of his own pizza, then watched with amusement as she wrestled with how to humbly accept it. Eventually she gave up on decorum and shoved the whole thing into her mouth in about two bites, a messy decision that she instantly regretted.
    “You’ve got sauce in your nostril,” Driggs informed her.
    Lex sighed. “Of course I do.” She grabbed a nearby leaf and tended to the situation. “Better?”
    “Radiant.” He smiled, leaned back on his elbows, and watched her expectantly.
    Lex stared back, confused. She grabbed the leaf and dabbed at her face again, but he still wouldn’t look away. “What?”
    “Don’t you have any questions? I mean, Mort loves his secrets, and Zara never elaborates on anything, especially not to rookies. Which means that if you want any answers, I’m your guy.”
    “What could you possibly tell me that I can’t learn from the back of a children’s menu?”
    He sat up. “I know why you were brought to Croak. Do you?”
    Lex inhaled sharply. She had craved nothing but information since she arrived, and now here it was, dangling in front of her like a tantalizing venti caramel macchiato. “No, why?” she said hungrily, forgetting all rules of personal space as she grabbed at his shirt.
“Why?”
    “Relax, spaz.” He laughed, rocking back onto his elbows. “You’re here because of a textbook spike in misanthropic tendencies and violent behavior. The one thing we all have in common.”
    There it was, spelled right out for her. An explanation. Lex’s heart leaped so high, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it jumped out of her chest and started tap-dancing across the shingles. After all this time, all the questioning, all the detentions— a concrete answer. She couldn’t wait to tell Cordy—
    She grimaced. Cordy. They’d gone a whole day without talking.
    This was a first.
    Lex put it out of her mind. She’d book the guilt trip later.
    “All of us used to be holy terrors,” Driggs went on. “The wild streaks fade as soon as we get here,” he said, eyeing her clawing hand, “though in some cases, it may take longer.”
    “Sorry,” Lex stammered, letting go of his shirt. She cleared her throat. “Is that what happened to you?”
    “Yep. I have not always been the bastion of virtue I am today. One minute I was an immaculate child, the next, a savage little criminal. Got into fights, did drugs, stole stuff. Got caught a few times, but I didn’t care.”
    “What about your parents?”
    “They didn’t care either.”
    Lex thought this was very sad, but she decided not to say so. “How did you end up here?”
    He brightened. “That would be Mort’s doing. Showed up one night and offered me the chance to do something productive with my life.”
    “And you went with him?” Lex asked, doubtful. “Willingly?”
    “Mort’s a persuasive guy.”
    “What did your parents say?”
    Driggs looked away and was silent. “They didn’t object,” he said after a moment.
    Lex winced. She had never been any good at that whole consolation thing. “Good pizza,” she uttered instead, immediately loathing herself.
    “Yeah,” he said sardonically.