After the argument with his dad at Caritas the other night, Johnny had taken to staying in his room. Oh he wasn't hiding, per se. He was just out of the way, where his Dad wouldn't find him right away, with the door shut, and Superstar by The Carpenters playing quietly on his radio
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"Hey, Hotshot. Got a minute?"
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"Sure, Dad. Always got a minute." As intimidating as Barton Blaze could be sometimes, Johnny did like talking to him.
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"I've been thinking," he started. He'd been thinking a lot, "maybe you'd like to come back to the Carnival with me. Just for a few days. Help me work out some kinks in a few routines."
It might have been painfully obvious that this was a cover for something bigger, but Barton had been wrestling for a long while with this bigger something, and it wasn't exactly easy for him to just out and say it.
Best to tell him at home. In their trailer. Home turf.
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"Y'sure? I have classes startin' up tomorrow, an' I don't know 'f I should miss 'em."
Since Johnny wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, it didn't immediately occur to him that this might be a cover.
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