"Let me tell you," David Thompson raised his voice, and although he was always pretty loud, this time he was especially so, "don't hang out with him, that kid is no good!"

"...Oh." Brian Carter took off his jacket and tossed it into the inner room.

David Thompson watched him, probably waiting for him to ask why. After a while, seeing he didn't say anything else, he leaned in, looking like he was about to tell a story: "Do you know why I say he's no good?"

"Why?" Brian Carter actually wasn't interested in knowing, but still played along and asked.

"He killed his own father!" David Thompson said, leaning in a bit too close, his excited spit spraying over half of Brian Carter's face.

Brian Carter suddenly stood up to dodge, wiped his face hard a few times, and was about to get angry when he suddenly realized: "What? Killed who?"

"His own father!" David Thompson half-shouted, "He drowned his own father."

Brian Carter looked at him without saying anything. Judging by David Thompson's excited expression, if he wanted, he could probably gossip about this kind of thing all afternoon.

Unfortunately, Brian Carter didn't believe it.

"If he killed his own father, wouldn't he be in jail?" He sat down on a chair by the table, rubbing his throbbing temples.

"It happened so many years ago, why would he be in jail," David Thompson sat down too, "and no one saw it happen."

"No one saw it..." Brian Carter laughed.

"Everyone knows what happened. When the police came, his dad was in the lake, he was on the shore, and that expression..." David Thompson clicked his tongue repeatedly, "You could tell right away it was him... Eat, try the food, see if it suits your taste?"

Brian Carter didn't respond, just picked up a piece of pork rib.

"It was for his family's Er Miao," David Thompson probably noticed he didn't believe it, so he added, as if to make it more convincing, "His dad smashed Er Miao's head, there was blood everywhere, and after being saved, he couldn't even talk anymore."

"Ah." Brian Carter replied with a rib in his mouth, remembering that shocking scar on the back of Ashley Bennett's head.

Chapter 5

When Henry Cooper called, Brian Carter was still sleeping like he was about to hibernate. The phone rang for a long time before he groggily picked up: "...Hmm?"

"Damn, I knew it," Henry Cooper said, "Open your damn eyes and see what time it is."

"Is it four o'clock?" Brian Carter woke up, brought the phone to his face to check the time, but his eyes weren't fully awake yet, everything was blurry.

"It's three thirty!" Henry Cooper said, "I knew you'd be like this, so I called you early."

"There's still time," Brian Carter sat up, "I'll wait for you at the station exit in a bit."

"Which exit?" Henry Cooper asked.

"There's only one exit," Brian Carter glanced out the window. Through the glass, so dirty it looked frosted, he could tell the weather was nice today, golden and bright. "Hanging up."

After getting dressed and out of bed, he felt much better. Except for being a bit sleep-deprived, that all-over discomfort from yesterday, the kind that made him want to grab anyone and beat them up, was gone.

Counting the time, he'd slept from yesterday afternoon until now—a whole day. He felt a bit unsteady on his feet.

David Thompson wasn't home; who knew where he'd gone.

Brian Carter found this "home" pretty strange. Back when his mom wanted to give up custody, David Thompson had run over several times, even though Brian Carter didn't want to see him.

Now that he was here, David Thompson no longer acted like he was desperate to get his son back.

And the so-called big brother and big sister—he hadn't seen them in two days.

Brian Carter had no interest or expectations for this new "home," but no matter when he opened his eyes each day, he was always alone in this lifeless room, and it didn't feel good.

If this place weren't an apartment, he'd think it was a century-old house. Inside and out, everything reeked of decay.

That's also why he didn't want Henry Cooper to stay here. Compared to his old, clean, and tidy room with a piano, Henry Cooper would probably howl for two or three days.

Actually, even if he hadn't brought him home, just seeing the East Station would probably make Henry Cooper howl for a while.

"Damn," Henry Cooper dragged a big suitcase and carried a large bag. As soon as they met, he exclaimed, "I really can't handle this place!"

"Then go back," Brian Carter pointed at the ticket office, "Hurry up, go buy a ticket."

"What about brotherhood!" Henry Cooper said, "I came all this way dragging all this stuff to see you! Shouldn't you be a little moved?"

"I'm so moved." Brian Carter said.

Henry Cooper glared at him, then after a while spread his arms: "I actually kind of missed you."

Brian Carter went over and hugged him: "I didn't get around to it."

"You know why you only have me as a friend?" Henry Cooper let go of him.

"I know," Brian Carter nodded, "Because you're an idiot."

He actually had quite a few friends, but they were all the kind you could take or leave—hanging out, wandering around, sticking together for small things, scattering like birds for big ones.

Only Henry Cooper, even though they only met in ninth grade and were in the same class in high school, not even three years yet, was solid.

After coming to this crappy little city, the only person he ever missed was Henry Cooper.