At twenty minutes to nine, Lamar finally got up. Stacy was in the kitchen, struggling through a sample GED test his English teacher had handed out the day before and ignoring his empty stomach, but when he heard the bedroom door knock against the wall, he closed the test booklet. He heard Lamar muttering to himself as he stumbled down the hall, incoherent curses Stacy couldn’t quite make out.
As quietly as he could, he pushed back the chair and cleared his school stuff off the table. Lamar would b***h if he left his books out, Stacy had heard it before. “Can’t you put your s**t away?” he asked once when he came home from work and found Stacy’s notebooks scattered across the coffee table. Without waiting for an answer, he’d swept everything onto the floor just to prop his feet up to watch
