Last Chance by Norah McClintock Page B

backpack and pushed it through the chain-link. Even from where I was standing, I could see what it was. Money. A roll of it.
    Nick had passed the roll to a guy with reddish hair who looked vaguely familiar, although I couldn’t remember where I had seen him before. He took the money and stuffed it into his jeans pocket.
    â€œThanks a million, Nick,” he said. “It’s the last time, I swear. A buddy of mine told me he’d talk to his boss. He’s sure the guy will hire me as soon as I get my license back—” He broke off when he spotted me and nodded at Nick, who turned and glared at me.
    â€œWhat do you want?” he said.
    â€œKathy said to tell you that she wants to see you in her office,” I said. “Right now.”
    He glanced back at the shelter. He didn’t look as calm and cool as he had the day before when I had accused him of stealing. If anything, he looked panicked.
Good,
I thought. He turned back to the guy on the other side of the fence.
    â€œYou gotta get out of here,” he said.
    The guy on the other side of the fence laughed. “Man, they really got you whipped, Nicky,” he said.
    â€œNow
, Joey,” Nick said.
    Joey.
    Nick had talked on the phone last week to someone named Joey. He’d told him to relax, that he’d get it. Did he owe money to this Joey? And the thick roll of cash I had seen him pass through the fence—where would a guy like Nick get that much money? It looked like I hadn’t been wrong about him after all. It looked like he really had taken some of the money collected by shelter volunteers.
    Joey shrugged, a long, lazy who-cares gesture, before turning and bounding across the open field on the other side of the fence. Nick watched him go. When his eyes met mine again, they were hard and distant. He slipped his other arm through his backpack and brushed past me.
    I trailed behind him, not eager to catch up, and hung back when he yanked on the door to go inside. I waited a few moments before going inside myself. As I headed for my office, I heard voices.
    â€œYou know better than that,” Kathy was saying. She sounded annoyed.
    I heard Nick respond: “It’s not my fault.”
    â€œThat doesn’t cut it with me, Nick,” Kathy said.“And it won’t cut it with Ed, either. You’re lucky that I spotted Joey before he did. He’d have you out of the program today if he knew.” I heard a long sigh followed by a few moments of silence.
    â€œYou’re not going to tell him, are you?” Nick said. He sounded scared.
    â€œGive me one reason why I shouldn’t,” Kathy said.
    â€œJoey’s not what you think. He’s not a bad guy.”
    â€œHe knows he’s not on your approved list, doesn’t he? And he knows what happens if you break the rules, right?” Kathy said. “But he’s such a good guy that he just ignores all of that, even if it gets
you
in trouble. Is that what you’re telling me?”
    When Nick spoke again, his voice was small, as if he were a little boy instead of a big, tough teenager.
    â€œPlease, Kathy,” he said. “Don’t tell Mr. Jarvis, okay? Joey just needed some help and I couldn’t say no.”
Right,
I thought. Joey needed money, and Nick knew exactly where to find some. “It’ll never happen again, I promise.” He was begging her. I couldn’t believe it. Tough guy Nick D’Angelo was actually begging. I wished I could have seen it with my own eyes.
    I hoped that Kathy would tell him the same thing I would have if I were in her shoes: Sorry, Nick, but rules are rules. Why should Nick keep getting so many chances to break them?
    I heard another long sigh.
    â€œYou’ve mostly been doing well here,” Kathy said.
    â€œI have?” There was a note of hope in Nick’s voice.
    â€œAlthough you could have been nicer to Mr. Schuster.”
    â€œHe doesn’t like