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But around the same time that our window glass got straightened out, Davis’s workouts started hitting me a different way. It happened when I listened to his words. The more shaky and worn out Davis gets from his push-ups, the more the normal words we all say every day start getting mixed up with ol…

My cell: six feet by ten, two metal trays nailed to the wall with mattresses on top that look like old taped-up cushions from patio chairs. No one ever wants the top bunk—people cut each other over bottom bunks—but I like the top because it gives me the best view of our window: five inches wide, tw…

I’ve tried everything to get her to look at me: clamming up, asking questions, laughing, stretching, knuckle cracking. Every week I bring in something to read, and after I read it out she glances my way because she has to, but her eyes don’t connect—they’re looking next to me or behind me or even t…

What I want to know, Tom-Tom says, after I read out my stuff in class, is which one of these clowns is you?

Clowns? I squint up my eyes at him. Clowns are a touchy subject with Tom-Tom. I’m surprised he brought it up.

Okay, he says. Assholes.

[...]

Who says any of these assholes is me? …

Howard: Why, did it stink?

Danny: Not especially. It smelled like a cave.

He knew maybe a half second before he said the word that it was the last word he wanted to use. And by then it was out: cave.

Danny’s face went hot. He made himself look at Howard, but his cousin was watching the win…