Billy is sat on his bed, blood slowly dribbling from his nose and the cut on his split lip. Bruises are all up his arms. He’s gotten into another fight with his dad. He lights a cigarette and puts it in his mouth, taking a drag and breathing it out through his nostrils. You knock on his window. His expression becomes impossible to read as he sees you there. He opens the window. “Couldn’t have come a little earlier, Ari?”