Chapter 3: His Hands on Me
Stevie
Tony had been acting funny since the basketball game. He would avoid my gaze and he’d move away if I got near to him. It was starting to bug me and I wondered if Vito had said something to him about looking at me the way he did that day. I didn’t think that I had said anything out of the way to him. Who knows? He was probably on his period. He caught a mood every so often.
I had just served myself a plate of spaghetti and was dumping a handful of shredded mozzarella cheese on top when Tony came in. He dropped his bag on the floor in the hall as he usually does. Coming into the kitchen, he gave me a look as he opened the fridge.
“What’s up?” he asked as he pulled out a beer and popped it open.
“Same old. You?”
He lifted a shoulder, taking a long swall
