I dumped the dolls at the base of the support beam and went to the door. “Funny, dickheads,” I told them. “Now how about getting the fuck out of my way?”

Jesus stepped aside. Nitro seized my forearm as I passed him. “You just going to leave those dolls there on the ground, chavo? That’s disrespectful.”

“Let go of me,” I told him.

He squeezed tighter. “You got to learn some manners, my friend. You can’t just go around busting everything—”

I shoved him hard enough he nearly fell over. I would have gone after him but Jesus grappled me from behind, pinning my arms to my side.

I ran him backward, crushing his body between mine and the doorframe. His hold on me slackened, though he didn’t let go.

Nitro, recovering, eyes storming, charged. I spun around, using Jesus as an unwitting shield. Nitro’s fist whizzed past my right ear.

Then Pepper leapt into the skirmish, shouting, telling us to break it up.

“Jesus!” Pita said a moment later, appearing from nowhere. “Nitro! Stop!”

Jesus released me. I turned back around, tensing to attack Nitro, but Pepper and Jesus were in the way.

Nitro was pushing against Pepper, letting Pepper hold him back.

“Jack, Nitro!” Pita shouted. “What the heck is going on?”

Nitro ran the heel of his hand over his mouth. “Your boyfriend got scared and spazzed out, that’s what.”

“Don’t touch me again,” I told him quietly.

“Or what, chavo? You gonna sissy-push me again?”

I shoved Jesus and Pepper out of the way and lunged at Nitro. He threw a punch that deflected off my chin, dazing me. Nevertheless, I got my shoulder into him. We smashed through a railing and tumbled down a gentle slope. We struggled all the way to the bottom, flipping back and forth. Nitro was strong, all muscle. But I was bigger, probably had thirty or forty pounds on him, and when we came to a stop I got my weight on top of him—only to realize I didn’t know what to do next. He pissed me off, but I wasn’t going to smash in his face. That’s when I heard Pita and Elizaveta. They were talking frantically. Something had happened.

I got off Nitro. I expected him to leap at me. He didn’t.

I climbed the slope, clawing at long grasses and ferns. At the top I saw Jesus sitting on the ground, Elizaveta and Pita and Pepper crouched in front of him.

“What happened?” I asked, going over.

“He twisted his ankle,” Elizaveta told me.

They’d rolled up Jesus’s left pant cuff. Elizaveta gently pulled off his penny loafer. He wasn’t wearing socks. There was a large red bump where there shouldn’t be on his ankle.

Elizaveta probed it with her finger. Jesus hissed in pain.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to—”

Pita glared at me. “You pushed him over.”