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loudly and boisterously pushed and shoved and insulted their way to their seats. She sighed and considered Arthur’s question once again. Did she love them? She used to, she knew, shaking her head at their uncivil behavior, but now she wasn’t sure anymore.

When she’d begun teaching, almost never would a student curse at a teacher. Now they did it with impunity. Where they learned such behavior, she couldn’t imagine. Home? Television? It didn’t really matter. Whatever the reason, good manners, as they used to be called, or civil behavior, were a thing of the past, and everyone was the worse for it.

And yet, she was required to teach these kids Shakespeare and Fitzgerald— two authors she loved—rather than proper social behaviors that would benefit them on a job and throughout their lives. Much as she loved classical literature, these kids didn’t need it and, it seemed to her, had more important lessons they did need to learn. Sighing again, she set about taking roll and calming the class so she could begin her required lesson plan for the day.

When Jack had finally cried himself to sleep, he’d been alone, but when he awoke the next morning, he found Mark’s arm draped over his bare chest and the blond boy curled up beside him, his unruly mane tickling Jack’s cheek. Despite the pain he felt at seeing Mark and Lance together, it still felt good to have Mark beside him, even though he knew it was only in friendship.

Later, while he and Mark and some of the older boys were tending to the needs of the younger children, he spotted Lance giving Chris his breakfast. He found himself staring at the younger, astoundingly beautiful boy with envy. And jealousy.

Lance felt someone’s eyes on him and turned to see Jack staring. He saw something in the other boy’s eyes before Jack quickly looked away, but what was it? A sudden chill ran through him. Did Jack know? Had Mark told him? But no, he knew Mark would keep his secret. Still, why had Jack been staring at him so intently?

“Are you gonna train me with the sword today?” Chris asked around a mouthful of Pop-Tart—something one of the guys had brought from home—interrupting Lance’s uncertain thoughts. “You been promising me, Lance.”

Lance managed a smile for the little bright-eyed boy, who’d already grown and filled out in the three months since they’d found him. “Sure, Chris, I’ll train you with whatever sword you can lift.”

“All right!” the boy replied, shoving the last of his Pop-Tart into his mouth. “Let’s get started.”

Arthur’s other kids began trickling in from home, and morning workouts began in earnest. Amid the bustle of bodies streaming about the weapons racks, grabbing swords and chain mail and bows and arrows, Lance watched as Chris tried out several different swords. Finally, the small boy chose a midsized weapon that weighed him down a little, but he gripped it tightly and turned back to Lance with a toothy grin.

As other boys paired off and began sparring, Lance went easy on the little one, but when Chris started hacking and stabbing hard at his shield, he had to laugh and really defend himself. He felt pleased that Chris was becoming more confident, less dependent, and so much stronger.

The little boy smashed against his shield with a force Lance hadn’t realized was there, and Lance felt his heart swell with pride and love for this little brother who’d adopted him and looked up to him. Another wall around his heart had begun to crack and crumble, he realized with uncertainty. Was that good or bad? He really didn’t know.

Gripping the hilt of his sword more tightly, he focused on parrying Chris’s thrusts before his musings got him seriously hurt.

As usual, Enrique and Luis sparred against one another as soon as they’d arrived. They always practiced swordplay in the morning because they had to do archery in the afternoon so they could flirt with Reyna. Each had his favorite sword and shield, and they were pretty equally matched. They knew each other’s style so well they could actually carry on a conversation while sparring and not risk getting hurt.

Enrique announced that he was going to ask Reyna out, and Luis suddenly burned with rage, smashing his sword violently into the other boy’s shield and causing Enrique to stagger back. “Not if I ask her first!” he retorted loud enough to draw Lance’s attention from across the chamber.

Without pause, the jealousy and rivalry for Reyna’s attention frothed to the surface, and the boys began hacking and stabbing at one another for real.

“You ain’t doin’ nuthin’, homie!” Enrique shouted back with a vicious thrust that Luis barely danced away from.

The sound of metal slamming against metal became louder, and their thrusts and parries grew more intense. Everyone in the vicinity stopped and stared in amazement. Arthur was nowhere in sight, but Lance didn’t hesitate.

He leapt forward with his sword thrust out before him. “Stop it!” he shouted, his voice sounding young, yet commanding. The combatants ignored him, thrusting and swinging and cursing at each other.

Chris backed away and bumped into Jack and Mark, who, like everyone else, had stopped their own sparring to watch the scene unfold. “Go get Arthur,” Mark urged Chris. The small boy nodded and ran off toward one of the other tunnels.

Lance watched the boys fight, his sword ready, but paralyzed and unsure of what to do. “I said stop!” he shouted a second time, but his words fell into empty air. The fight continued. If anything, it grew more intense. Lance was certain one of them would be hurt or killed if he didn’t do something.

Lavern came running into the tunnel to find out what all the commotion was about. Lance snatched the bow and arrow from the boy’s hand, cocked the arrow, took aim, and fired a straight shot at Enrique’s shield. The arrow smashed hard into the shield making a ping sound and snapping into two pieces. Startled, both combatants, winded from their exertions, ceased their swinging and hacking to gaze at Lance in horror.

“The hell, Pretty Boy?” gasped Enrique, sweat dripping down his angular face, gaping in disbelief at the broken arrow by his feet. “You could a killed me, fool!”

“Like you guys weren’t tryin’ ta kill each other already?” Lance retorted brusquely, stepping boldly forward and getting between them. “What’s wrong with you two?” He glared at each in turn.

Enrique pointed at Luis. “This fool thinks he’s gonna take Reyna from me!”

“You don’t even got her, fool!” shouted Luis right back.

It looked like the two were going to start up again, but Lance pushed them back from each other, staring them both down. They mad-dogged each other from either side of Lance, but made no further aggressive movements.

Lance looked from one to the other. “Look, guys, I hate ta tell ya this, but Reyna don’t go for either of you. If she’s into anybody it’s Esteban. So what the hell are you two fighting for?”

“I’ll kick that fool’s ass!” Enrique spat. “Big-time gangbanger—I’ll waste that punk!”

“Listen to me,” Lance ordered in a strong voice that commanded silence and respect.

Enrique and Luis stopped mad-dogging each other and gazed with wonder at the younger, smaller boy.

“You tole me you guys’ve been friends for like, forever. Remember at school when I first told you about Arthur?”

They nodded.

“Why’d you decide to join?”

Enrique shrugged. “Sounded cool.”

“Thought it might be fun.”

“Yeah,” Lance pressed, “but remember what I told you was the reason for this crusade?”

Enrique and Luis exchanged an embarrassed look. “To make things better for kids like us,” Enrique said, and Luis added, “To make a difference.”

Lance’s eyes blazed with intensity. “Exactly! We’re more than friends in this crusade, guys, we’re brothers. Can’t let no jaina, can’t let nothin’ break us apart. Else we fail ’fore we even start.”

Enrique and Luis eyed Lance with a newfound respect.

“When you get so smart, Pretty Boy?” Enrique asked.

“Name’s Lance, not Pretty Boy, and I guess from hangin’ around Arthur.”

Enrique nodded and glanced over at Luis, who nodded back, swiping sweat from his brow. Then the three boys exchanged the ever-popular hand slap, finger clasp, fist bump-type handshake, and all the drama was over as quickly as it had begun.

Lance turned to the assembled onlookers and spotted Mark and Jack together. Mark grinned and gave him a thumbs-up sign, which caused Jack to squirm with discomfort.

“All right, everyone, back to work!” Lance commanded. And they complied.

As the crowd dispersed, Lance spotted Arthur standing at the mouth of the tunnel with Chris, watching him. The king approached and gazed at Lance without a word. Then a smile creased his bearded face. “Well done, Lance.”

Embarrassed by the compliment, Lance averted his eyes, looking down at the floor. “Oh, they weren’t really fighting, it was just—”

Arthur’s hand on his shoulder caused him to stop and look up. Arthur’s grin was still there. “Well done, my boy.”

Lance broke into a grin. “Thanks, sire.”

Arthur nodded, and Lance turned to Chris. “Ready for more, little man?”

Chris swatted sweaty blond hair from his eager blue eyes and nodded enthusiastically, drawing a laugh from Lance and the king. Lance took Chris back over to their corner and resumed their lessons.

After a while, Reyna blew in with her accustomed bluster. To their credit, Enrique and Luis paid her no mind, which she noted with obvious disapproval.

Shortly thereafter, Esteban and his crew arrived, followed by Darnell, Jaime, Tai (the big Samoan), and Duc (who, Lance now knew, was Korean). All had brought more gang members to partake of the training, and the chamber swelled to bursting with the energetic youth.

All who’d arrived from their homes brought various and sundry foods for lunch, as had become the daily custom, and after a few hours of physical activity, the kids were tired and hungry, even Jack and Esteban, the two most physically fit of the lot. And so they spread throughout the tunnels and ate their fill—talking, laughing, cussing, and bragging.

Arthur had gone off to feed Llamrei, so Lance sat with Mark and Jack, and Chris and ate a relaxed meal with his friends—no, his family. That’s who these guys were, he now knew, not just Mark, but all of them were the family he’d never had. He believed he was unworthy of such a gift, and yet they made him feel something almost foreign—happy.

Lance joked with Mark and Chris and pretended not to notice Jack’s steely brown eyes boring into him. He’d glance up while eating to find Jack eyeing him in an almost invasive sort of way that caused Lance to physically squirm. It creeped him out and confused him at the same time.

Why does Jack keep doing that?

He shivered and forced his attention back on Chris while the small boy finished his food. Jack’s intense probing looks had killed his appetite anyway, so he gave the rest of his sandwich to Chris, who grinned and popped the whole thing into his mouth and puffed out his cheeks like a squirrel.

Lance had to laugh at the boy’s antics and found himself feeling a growing love for this little boy such as he’d never felt for anyone. He grinned at Chris and then reached out with both hands to tickle the boy until Chris, rolling and pitching on the concrete floor, almost cried with laughter.

Finally, unnerved by that probing stare from Jack, he stopped tickling Chris and rose to his feet. “I’m gonna go check on everybody else,” he said, mainly to Mark, avoiding Jack’s penetrating gaze. “Uh, see you

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