“Sure. Then I have time to show you these.” Nehemiah took several comic books from his book bag.

“Oh, man, you don’t buy any of that crappy DC stuff, do you?”

“DC? Heck no. I wouldn’t waste money on that crap. I got Black Panther, Hulk, Luke Cage, Fantastic Four, Avengers, Thor, and X-Men.”

I picked through the stack. “How’d you get all these?”

“I skip lunch and use my lunch money.”

After a two-hour block of cartoons, Nehemiah was still on the couch. Moms hinted around about him going home, but Nehemiah dodged the issue every time. She resigned herself to fixing dinner for three, but insisted on a phone number to check with his folks first. After a few minutes on the line with them, she stared at our phone like it was an alien tongue trying to lick her. She told us that she wasn’t in a rush to drop him off.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Nehemiah asked.

“I don’t know.” I flipped through the channels, bored with everything. “Maybe a cop or something.”

(I have a theory that every boy goes through a cop phase. I’m certain mine was due to the amount of cop shows Moms watches.)

“I want to do something great, you know?” Nehemiah’s voice faded off. “Something where I can be rich and famous.”

“Wouldn’t it be cool to have superpowers?” I interrupted.

“I guess.” Nehemiah’s hands fidgeted in his lap. His elbows were ashy. He never quite met my eyes when we talked. He’d either stare past me like he was focused on something just over my shoulder or study the carpet.

“I mean, if I had my choice, I’d be big and strong, like the Hulk. And no one would be allowed to pick on anyone smaller than them. I’d protect all of them.”

“I’d choose flying. I’d fly all the time.” Nehemiah almost looked directly at me when he said that. “When you fly, you’re free.”

I knew right then that I’d found my brother.

The next day, we were out at recess. Nehemiah and I chilled out by the kindergarten double doors. For all the time we’d been in class together, it was the first time we’d ever hung out at school. Some middle schoolers milled about during their Discovery Time. I spied Tim on the monkey bars. He teased some girl. She squealed, telling him to leave her alone. It sounded like a cry of help to me, so I trotted over there.

“Quit bothering her,” I said.

“Mind your own business, Spea—” Tim checked himself since we weren’t alone.

Not that it mattered. Just knowing that I wasn’t by myself anymore made me see myself different. I was sick of him calling me names. Leaping up at him, I grabbed a hold of his dangling leg. Unprepared for me to lunge at him, he overbalanced and tumbled right off the monkey bars. It had rained overnight and the grass was still damp. The girl held her hands to her horrified face.