Page 37 of Wear It Like a Crown

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Surprisingly, Joshua wasn’t stopped once on the way to the car rental agency. He blamed the fact that he looked like a bum, curls peeking out from under a beanie knitted in the colours of Jamaica, dressed in a frayed, blackThe ClashT-shirt that smelled like Leo and was a little too tight on Joshua. Most gazes slid right over his figure without even taking in his face, and those who looked more closely did a double take, met his eyes—and left it at nods and smiles. It wasawesome.

They picked up a van with minimal hassle, Leo obviously well-known to the person behind the rental desk. Joshua slid into the passenger seat and immediately flicked on the radio while Leo adjusted the driver’s seat, then fiddled with the rear-view mirror. He really was on the short side. Shapely legs, though, and nicely muscled arms, his eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun, arched brows giving him a constant air of mischief.

“Something on my face?” Leo asked, and Joshua flushed and looked away.

“No. Just wondering where we’re going. Since I’m not allowed to ask questions.”

Leo breathed out a soft snort. “That’s going to be tough for you, huh? Just wait and see, Josh. Patience is a virtue.”

“That is such a piece of fortune cookie wisdom. Waiting for something hardly ever makes it better, you know?”

Backing the van out of the parking spot, Leo didn’t reply until they were on the road. He sounded distracted, quickly checking his phone for messages. “Beg to differ. I do remember that the anticipation was the best part of Christmas. My little sisters always—” Abruptly, he cut himself off.

“Your little sisters always…?” Joshua prompted. Relaxing into his seat, he watched Leo’s eyes cloud over, followed by an impatient headshake.

“Never mind.” Leo’s fingers were tense around the wheel, words quick and combined with an oddly calculating glance. “So here’s a question for you: we’re about to collect some leftover food from a number of places. And I usually have a friend who’s helping, but she just texted me, said she’s not feeling too great. So if you don’t mind getting yourprincely hands a bit dirty, some light lifting, nothing that will fuck up your nails?—”

“I’m not completely useless, you know?” Joshua interrupted. It came out terse. Fuck, he’d thought Leo had moved past his prejudices, and here they popped up again. “I do have two arms, so yes, I can lift things, and I don’t have a weekly manicure or whatever you think is part of my… role.” He let his voice dip lower. “Hey, remember how we’re totally past this?”

Leo dipped his head. His smile was sweet, bordering on apologetic. “I remember, yes. Sorry. All right, then. Gladly accepting the help, and thank you.”

The whiplash change in demeanour was odd, and Joshua stared for a moment. What the hell? Wait, had that been—ah. Leo had effectively changed the topic, hadn’t he? Yes. Yes, he had. And while Leo had been the one to mention his sisters in the first place, it would be awkward if Joshua were to bring them up again now, after this change of course in their conversation. He’d seem as though he was snooping even though he’d agreed not to ask questions.

Leo was good at controlling conversations. Something to keep in mind.

“You’re welcome,” Joshua said, after a pause that might have dragged on a hint too long.

Leo moved among the street kids like someone who belonged.

No, that wasn’t quite right. He moved like a leader, like someone who provided others with a sense of direction and knew they would listen, hang on to his every word. And they did. For all that there were some kids who tried to project an air of danger—snapbacks and tattoos, skulls decorating their tops—they all orbited around Leo. They trusted him. A simple, “Yeah, so we got a special guest today, but anyone bothering him will answer to me,” had been enough to stave off any problems.

Joshua wondered if Leo realised the power he had.

Who even was this guy? What drove him? And where were thoselittle sisters he’d mentioned? He’d never even hinted at his family before, hadn’t offered anything about his past in spite of the many hours they’d spent together. Had he somehow lost touch with his family, and this was his way of replacing them, by surrounding himself with a whole bunch of troubled kids and making certain they ate their fill at least once a week?

And why,whyhad Leo agreed to take Joshua along? Why was Joshua allowed to witness this side of him? Pity? Was there a part of Leo that wanted Joshua to see him like this, wanted Joshua to learn more—a tiny part of Leo that was starting to tire of putting up walls?

Bloody hell. Joshua had several dozen questions, and he’d promised not to ask so much as one.

Nothing stopped him from striking up a conversation with some of these kids, though—teenagers, really, ranging from thirteen to twenty or so. God. They were soyoung. Yet most of them looked old beyond their years, dark circles under their eyes, tired and distrustful when they caught him looking. How had they ended up like this, without a family that protected them? Had they run away from homes that seemed worse than life on the street? Had they been orphans, and the system had failed them somehow? Had they landed themselves in a spot of trouble, something involving drugs or alcohol? Before he’d met Leo, Joshua had rarely ever felt this out of his depth.

There was a girl who’d been eyeing him with curiosity rather than hostility. When her friend got up to fill another plate, leaving her alone, Joshua sat down beside her on a dirty patch of grass, beside some rubbish bins that were mostly filled with paper. “Hi,” he said softly. “I’m Joshua.”

“I know.” She tilted her head. “Shayna. But Leo said not to bother you.”

Joshua glanced up to find Leo in a quiet, intent conversation with some boy who had a bruise on his jaw. Turning back to Shayna, Joshua tried for a smile. “I came to talk to you, didn’t I?”

“Guess so.” Her gaze skimmed over him, assessing, then she propped one leg up and wrapped her arms around it. A colourful watch hung off one thin wrist, her tank top torn, revealing the straps of her bra and the sharp cut of her collarbones. She gave him an assessing smile. “You know, I’m not, like, working until later, but I’d make an exception for you. I’m a patriot, like.”

What—oh.Jesus. She couldn’t be older than sixteen. Joshua swallowed around the lump in his throat and gently shook his head. “I’m not interested in that. I just want to talk to you a little. That’s all.”

“Talk,” she repeated carefully.

“Talk.” Joshua nodded.

She narrowed her eyes and took him in, a different kind of interest in her eyes now. “Is it true how they say you’re gay?”