“Puh-lease,” Britney says, smirking. Fine, she can keep her secrets for now. I’m too busy buzzing with excitement today to go down thatrabbit hole.
“Honestly, though, it’s worth it. Just look at the kids,” I say, gesturing to the temporary gallery wall running down the center of the youth center gymnasium.
My kids stand proudly in front of their favorite photographs. All framed, courtesy of a donation from Neon Nights Media. A lot of people mill about, some sipping mocktails from the makeshift bar in the corner where Christian is slinging drinks. The food, the space, the decor—all of this provided as a donation from Blackwood Enterprises.
Aaron pulled through, reaching out to his local network, enticing them to attend the youth photography show. I have lost track of how many people I’ve spoken with this afternoon, people who had no idea there was a youth center in this area and how under-funded it truly was. I can only pray these conversations will lead to donations and real, meaningful change for the youth center. Change that will translate directly into the lives of these kids.
“Mmm,” Britney muses. “I’m gonna go find Ally and see if she’s met any hot guys.”
Laughing, I say, “Good luck, babe.”
“And what does Britney need luck for?” Corey asks, sidling up to my side and placing a kiss on my cheek.
“You don’t wanna know,” I mumble, turning to cup his jaw, loving the feel of his short beard beneath my fingers. I press my lips to his for a chaste kiss.
“Ugh, Ms. B, really?”
Pulling back from Corey, I peek at the person standing behind him.
“Oh, I’mso sorryto make you uncomfortable, Mitchell,” I tease. “Now you know how I felt last week when your mouth was connected to Priya’s during our entire session.”
His cheeks flush and he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry.”
Corey nudges Mitchell, hard enough to knock the kid off balance. “Corey,” I chastise.
“He has something to say to you,” Corey says, giving a guilty shrug. “I’ll… be over by the bar with Christian.”
Mitchell steps a bit closer, eyes on the floor, and mumbles something. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
He takes a deep breath, steeling himself with courage, and looks me in the eye. “I’m really sorry about stealing that stuff,” he says. “And breaking in. And just… yeah, I’m sorry about all of it.”
Tilting my head, I give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I know you are, Mitchell. It’s ok—”
“It’s not.” He shakes his head as tears gather in his eyes. “It’s not okay. You’re like, the only good person I know in my life, besides my sisters. You trusted me, and I fucked it up.”
My heart stutters at his words, but I swallow hard and simply say, “Language.”
We look at each other for a beat, then we both break into laughs.
Taking a breath, I say, “Sometimes we do things that are wrong to make other things right. It’s not an excuse, not for this or in life, generally… But you meant well, Mitchell. And you know that you can always hang at the youth center whenever you need. Even if there’s no session, just text me, okay?”
Mitchell shakes his head, disappointment clouding his features. “I just turned eighteen, Ms. B. You know the rules.”
Yeah, the rule that when you turn eighteen, you’re suddenly too old to be allowed at the youth center. “Mitch—”
“What if you got a job,instead?”
I whip my head around to see Aaron lingering near the appetizer table. Mitchell’s eyes go wide as he looks between me and Aaron. “You’re… you’re—”
“Aaron Blackwood,” he says, stepping forward, his hand outstretched. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mitchell.”
There’s fear in Mitchell’s eyes now, as he shakes Aaron’s hand and looks to me for help. I shrug, completely unaware of Aaron’s plans.
“Are you planning on going to college?” Aaron asks.
Mitchell shakes his head. “Nah. I’m barely gonna graduate high school. Besides, no one in my family has ever been to college.”
Aaron nods. “Not a problem. I have an internship available at the casino. It’ll be back office stuff, nothing on the floor because you’re not twenty-one. It’ll probably be really boring shit, but it’ll give you something to do. And a paycheck.”
