Another sweltering summer afternoon at the mall usually meant checking out some new shoes, video games, and the real prize, a trip to the food court. Instead of spending money though, the 10 year old was loitering around the outskirts of the food court to make some. Regardless of the product, there was always a dime to be made off of 'acquired goods'. It was something he had learned from Mikel, one of the older boys at the boys' home that had taken charge of Cruz. Santa Clause was one stingy asshole when it came to the troubled youths dwelling at the home, so unless you were extremely excited about a pair of weathered Jordan's from the 90's or some broke down hand-me-down toy that was donated and likely to get stolen, you figured out a way to pocket some cash on the side whenever the powers that be weren't looking.

It was just a matter of finding the right con. Mikel's con just happened to require Cruz to wander through the local comic shop 'Heroes & Dragons' looking for an easy mark. It was harder than it sounded, the place was chock full of things that could distract the young latino boy from his mission of tricking people and quietly pilfering goods. But Mikel was waiting, so he met him outside. Just like clockwork, Mik was waiting impatiently outside the shop. Cruz hurried over to him with a mix of pride and something far from inconspicuous plastered all over his face.

"I got 'em, just like you taught me. Easy!" Cruz was beaming as silently as he could, eager for some sign of approval or appreciation from the older boy who'd taken him under his wing, shooting him a wide smile between sneaky glances that were directed around them. Mikel gave the dark haired boy a hearty shove to the shoulder and frowned. "Stop looking so fucking suspicious and show me what you got." Some of the boys sold dime bags they'd get from unsavory types after school, but that was way too risky, and usually ended up with a trip to juvi. So Mikel mitigated those risks and targeted a much less dangerous product to peddle with Cruz. Pokémon cards.

"I played this kid fair-and-square for a Ninetails and Gyarados card--," Cruz's proud victory was suddenly deflated when he noticed the unimpressed look on the older boy's face. "What cards did you bet?" Cruz responded to the question with silence, knowing full well the scolding that was coming. Just as the older boy started to sneer and jump into a curse laden tirade, Cruz finally loosened his tongue.

"I bet one of the Legendarys and any one card out of my jungle deck.." That earned the Cruz an icy look all on its own. Mikel was fuming, and he didn't even have to explain why because he knew. It was a stupid bet, more risk than reward, and he'd taught him better than that. He rehashed an age old lecture on risk vs. reward anyway. "Ninetails and Gyarados might get us 20 dollars if we find someone stupid or loaded enough to pay that much for shit cards, but forget that part. Let's talk about the deck. Because it isn't your fucking deck to play with. It's ours. To make money, not to fuck around with. Stop being such a little kid." Shit-brain, Dumbass, Mama's boy. Of all the names and insults Mikel occasionally doled out on Cruz,that was the one he hated the worst. Little kid.

The boys had taken a special pride in acting harder beyond most boys their age or at least Mikel did, but he tried to transcribe that onto Cruz too. The youth knew he'd have to learn everything he could from the boy, in a few years Mikel would be too old to stay at the boy's home and he'd 'graduate'— Mikel's words, not his— to a life on the streets. Then it'd be Cruz all on his own. He knew he had to regard the next few years as training, he didn't put much stock on getting adopted by a nice family, he'd learned from Mikel that was fairy tale shit. He had to learn to survive, to hustle, to squeeze a dollar out of the lint in his pockets or take the dollar out of someone elses. Life in the boy's home was just training for the real thing, life on the streets, and Mikel's attitude was that of a boy who knew his time to really try and survive was about to be put to the test after he hit 18. Until then, Cruz had to soak up ever piece of knowledge he could. Cruz's eyes descended to his feet where he took to awkwardly scuffing the sole of his raggedy sneakers against the tiled floor. Mikel went on to keep piling it on and make him feel even worse until Cruz suddenly produced a card out of his back pocket and offered it to him in a meek gesture of redemption. "I stole this one out of his deck when he wasn't looking." The holy grail of Pokémon card geekdom itself, the highly sought after Charizard card. It was an impressive enough prize to make the older boy feel like shit for his prior admonishment. Was it enough to make his stubborn ass at least appear apologetic?

"Not bad," he said oh so casually about the nice bounty Cruz had lifted and promptly slipped it into his pocket. "I know this rich kid at school I can probably sell this to at triple the value. You did good." Mikel threw an arm around him and squeezed hard on his neck, but the way Cruz groaned and slumped against him told Mikel he wasn't quite as thrilled about the monetary benefits that card would land them. "But uh, maybe that can wait until next week." He proposed as they started to navigate through the burgeoning lunch hour crowd. He felt Cruz's posture straighten and smiled. "I've still got that base deck we borrowed. Maybe we can play when we get back? You can use Charizard in your deck." That made him perk up even more. At 10 years old, Cruz hadn't quite stopped being a kid yet, he knew he'd have to soon. Until then? He'd enjoy it.