ΤΣΣΠΔGΣ DΙΓΤβΔG ➯ ❝𝘼. 𝘾𝙇𝘼𝙍𝙆❞

Bronx couldn't say he enjoyed Alto, Georgia. Sure, The Bronx was a shithole (yes, he's named after a county, shut the fuck up), but it was a shithole he was familiar with. And it actually had stuff to do, like the old arcade five minutes away from their old house. Or, you know, the entirety of New York Damn City. Sure, his family was broke as fuck, but it was cool to walk around. The only reason they had moved was for his kid sister, Brooklyn.

His Aunt Queenie (named after Queens) had hunted down a renowned developmental pediatrician in Middle of Nowhere, Georgia. Most of his arguments had vanished at that; while he was happy (as happy as he was capable of being, at least), they had been looking for someone to help Brooklyn (in his family, it was just a recurring theme to hate your children enough to name them after landmarks).

If you hadn't guessed already, he's not an honest guy. "Down on their luck" didn't fit, since they'd never had any luck to begin with. Aunt Queenie worked her ass off as a secretary at an entertainment agency in NYC, and while it paid well, this country was in shambles, and so was the pricing system. Had to tap your 401(k) to keep a roof over your head.

His aunt knew what he did at night; she didn't like it, but she turned the other way when she saw the first stack of cash he dropped onto their old, rickety dining table. Though his dubious income helped them breathe a little, it didn't stop her worry from shifting from finances to her wayward nephew. His trashy (affectionate) aunt loved him, and he loved her, but Brooklyn was the light of his life; he would have ended up in a ditch long ago if they hadn't been waiting for him at home.

The first week was fine; whatever, really. He got his info packet from Alto High School. His busmate was some girl named Ashlyn; there were two other new kids besides him, and he would start in three days. Mundane shit.

He never could have guessed what would happen on that trip to Savannah.