—Can I see? Bobby asked Ed about his computer.

—Do what you want, bro, Ed said and sat on the floor to roll a joint. —I need a couch and a table. He hunched over on the floor to handle the weed.

—I know this program. I learned some of it at juvie. Bobby looked into the computer screen. Rolled around the mouse and got excited from it.

—If you wanna learn some more, I got the tutorials right here.

Ed bounced up to pull a crate out of his kitchen cabinet filled with CDs and books.

—Every time you learn one of these programs, you become more valuable. Sometimes I clock a hundred an hour, Ed said. —You can come over when you want, bro. I won’t sweat it. ’Sides, I got myself a freelance gig at night…so I give you the keys, you go crazy.

—For real? Bobby wondered, if once Ed lost his high, he would change his mind.

—It’s no biggie. We got to help each other out. You know what I mean? Been trying to get some of the fuckers on the corner to learn something so they could make some money, but you know how it is. People want shit easy. He took a drag from the joint rolled tight and thin: delicate. —You want some?

Ed passed the joint to Bobby. If he turned it down, would he break their agreement? Bobby hadn’t smoked anything but cigarettes. He was afraid weed would scramble his brain. It was hard enough for him to keep his thoughts straight. He took a hit and let the smoke fill his lungs.

—Smooth, no? Your friend Lalo manufactures this shit in his apartment. It keeps me straight, you know what I mean?

Bobby returned home in the early morning when everyone was sleeping. He was floating. Everything looked the same but different. Exaggerated, colorful, animated. He went to the kitchen to check out what his mother had left him on the stove. Popped the dish into the microwave while he contemplated a beer. Soon I’ll have my own place, Bobby thought, looking around the kitchen where nothing got thrown away. His apartment would be empty space.

Hush gasped when she saw Bobby sitting by the window. She hadn’t planned on staying over, but since Esperanza was working that night, Dallas told her she could sleep over if she wanted to.

—Don’t she have a house? Esperanza had asked once, when she noticed that Hush was another mouth to feed.

—Who are you? Bobby checked Hush out. He wasn’t sure if it was the weed or if a real person was actually before him. He squinted and bent forward to take a better look. There was a stranger in his kitchen. Bobby looked away and then back. He reached out to touch her. He felt off balance. His body felt heavy, his arms ached as if he had been carrying weights. The microwave beeped. He sat down.

—I’m Dallas’s friend. She let me crash here. Hush noticed that Bobby’s T-shirt stuck to his pecs from the sweat. —I was just getting some water.