The problem this week was the car.
Owen, Leo's father, sat at the kitchen table long after the sun had set. He wasn't in his dusty work clothes; he'd showered, but he still looked gray with exhaustion. In his hand was a bill from the auto shop.
"The transmission is shot, Honey," he said. His voice was flat. "They're saying twelve hundred. Minimum."
Sharon, who had been washing dishes, stopped. The only sound was the drip of water into the sink. "Twelve hundred?" she whispered. "Owen, we don't have twelve hundred. The mortgage is due. Anna needs a tracksuit..."
"I know," he snapped, then immediately softened. "I know. I just... I don't know what to do. I need the truck for work. If I can't get to the site, I don't get paid."
Leo watched from the doorway. A familiar, acidic feeling rose in his throat. Twelve hundred dollars. In his old life, that was a bar tab. An afterthought. Here, it was a catastrophe. It was the end of the world.
He felt a strange, dual emotion. He was guilty, because a part of him felt he should be able to solve this. But mostly, he was resentful. He hated this feeling. He hated this small, beige kitchen and its small, beige problems. He was meant for more than this.
"I can talk to him," Leo said, stepping into the room.
His parents looked up. "What, honey?" Sharon asked, confused.
"The mechanic. Mr. Henderson. I can talk to him," Leo repeated, slipping into his 'public' persona. He flashed his easy smile. "He just needs to understand the situation. I can... negotiate a deal. A payment plan. Maybe he'll knock a few hundred off for a loyal customer."
Owen just looked tired. "Leo, it's not that simple."
"Let me try," Leo insisted, his confidence growing. This, he knew. He knew how to talk to people. He knew how to make them feel like they were doing him a favor.
The next day, he skipped his last class and walked to the auto shop. The air smelled of grease and old tires. Mr. Henderson, a large man with oil-stained hands, was yelling at a supplier on the phone.
When he hung up, Leo made his move. "Mr. Henderson? Hi, I'm Leo, Owen's son."
"Kid. What's up? Your dad's truck is in the back. Parts won't be here 'til Thursday."
"Actually, sir, that's what I wanted to talk about." Leo leaned against the counter, casual, charming. "See, twelve hundred is a pretty big hit right now. My dad's a loyal customer. I was thinking, maybe you could do him a solid. You know, help us out. What's the real cost, business to business?"
He gave the man his best, conspiratorial smile. The one that said we're both smart guys, let's make a deal.
Henderson just stared at him. The man's eyes were flat, unimpressed. He wasn't a CEO. He was a mechanic.
"The 'real cost'?" Henderson repeated, his voice grating. "The real cost is the parts are eight hundred bucks. The real cost is my garage rent just went up. The real cost is I've got two kids of my own. I'm not running a charity, kid."
Leo's smile faltered. "I just meant, maybe a payment plan..."
"I do payment plans. Half now, half when it's done. That's the deal. Your dad knows it." Henderson turned back to his computer, dismissing him. "Now if you're not here to pay, I'm busy."
The rejection was absolute. It was cold. Leo's face burned. His old-money charisma, his one reliable weapon, was useless here. These people didn't play by his old rules. They played by the rules of rent and utility bills. He was just a powerless kid in a borrowed hoodie, and he'd just made a fool of himself.
He walked home, his hands jammed in his pockets. The "fallen from grace" feeling was sharper than ever. He wasn't just poor; he was ineffective.
When he got to the house, Anna Marie was on the front porch, waiting for him. She had a comic book in her lap.
"Hey," she said, looking up. "You look like you swallowed a frog."
"Hmm, tough day" he mumbled, slumping onto the steps beside her.
She nudged him with her shoulder. "Mom saved you a brownie." After a beat, she added, "You're still coming to my soccer game Saturday, right? You promised."
"Wouldn't miss it,fox" he said, the anger and shame fading, replaced by that simple, warm affection.
He put his arm around her, and she leaned against him. She idolized him. She thought her brother was the coolest, smartest person in the world.
He held onto that feeling. It was the only thing in this entire, frustrating life that felt real. His sister was the only one who made him feel like he wasn't a total fraud. And he would do anything to protect her.