There wasn’t even that much blood. Ra-Ra was panicking over nothing, but Ra was still panicking, and so it was Boo’s job to help out.
“Come on, man, it’s just a tiny cut.” He grabbed Ra’s hand, inspecting it. “Barely even a cut. More accurate to call it a nick.”
“I could have chopped off all my fingers!” Ra squealed indignantly, and Poo laughed, getting up to get the antiseptic and bandages.
“From now on, I’m gonna cut up the vegetables when we try to cook, okay?”
Boo was tiny and not an adept fighter at all. Still, he was gonna kick the ass of whoever was responsible for making his sister cry.
Anger could wait, though. He sat on the edge of Yolanda’s bed, hugging his sister. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Yolanda choked out, not sounding fine at all. Boo frowned, tugging his sleeve up to wipe off her tears and streaked makeup.
“Whatever happened, you know if anyone makes you cry, you got a right to punch them in the eye, right?” That forced a shocked laugh out of her, and Boo smiled, proud of himself. Maybe he couldn’t kick ass, but he could at least cheer up his big sister. That was more than enough for him.
Dizzee looked nice. His face was all painted up with deep red lipstick and glittery golden eyeshadow, and Boo didn’t know a lot about fashion or makeup or anything, but he recognized pretty when he saw it. He also recognized the look of abject terror on Dizzee’s face sneaking through the living room, despite the late hour, despite the fact that Boo was pretty sure they were the only folks awake on the whole block at two am. He did Dizzee a favor and pretended not to look up from his comic book.
“Where you going?”
“Out to paint.” Dizzee shook his bag, paint cans rattling together. Boo didn’t know where he planned to paint looking like that, but he supposed it was none of his business.
“Have fun. Don’t get caught.”