He glanced at Gail, then his dad, both of whom gave nods of assent.
Well, it wasn’t like Finn had been planning to hook up at the parade. That didn’t mean he was going to agree without stipulations. “I have conditions.”
“Yes!”
“You haven’t even heard them yet!”
She schooled her features into something serious. “Right. Okay. Hit me with it.”
“You do what I tell you. No running off.” For the most part, Pride was a safe event, but the crowds would make it easy for them to get separated. Imogen was old enough to call him on her cell if that happened or find her way home on public transit if she got pickpocketed and lost it, but Finn would prefer not to give himself an ulcer.
“Done.”
“And I have veto power over your outfit.”
Imogen blanched. “Finn.” Her brow wrinkled into a furious frown. “That’s, like, so… patriarchal of you. Gross.”
He pointed at her with his fork. A piece of potato salad fell off the end and landed on the table. “No sister of mine is going to Pride dressed like a normie. But you’re also not wearing a sign that says ‘come sex traffic me.’ There are going to be a lot of people there, and it’s my job to look out for you, so you’re not making it harder.”
Across the table, Gail and his dad exchanged looks. Typical. Finn ignored them.
Finally Imogen had chewed this over enough and offered, “We can collaborate on my fit.”
That was the best he could hope for from a teenage girl. Finn set down his fork and offered his hand. “Shake on it.”
Imogen shook. Deal done.
“Okay, great. Now pass me those ribs before Dad eats them all.”
Finn pulledinto the school parking lot at ten minutes to ten and rolled the windows down so he wouldn’t have to keep the car running. Soon enough the mild heat of June would give way to sweltering July and August, and even the scent of GTA traffic would seem refreshing in comparison with recycled air conditioning.
Of course, there was always the chance that he could get carjacked. That had become more common in the city lately. But this was a safe neighbourhood in the burbs and there were ten other cars, all occupied by people waiting to pick up their kids, all in more expensive rides than Finn’s, so he was probably safe.
He sent Imogen a text to let her know he was ready whenever she and Sawyer were and then set his phone back in the cupholder.
And lost a year of his life when someone knocked on the passenger-side door.
Quiet laughter echoed into the night. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh, cause whatever that just was.”
“A minor cardiac event?” Finn managed after a moment. He popped the lock so Robbie could slide in.
Then the situation struck him, and he groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re here to pick up the delinquents.”
Robbie snorted. He looked comical with his tall frame crammed into the front seat of Finn’s regular-size car, but he didn’t complain, even though his head brushed the ceiling. “No, I just like hanging out in school parking lots on Friday nights.” He paused. “Oh God, please tell me you heard the sarcasm.”
“I heard it.” How could anyone miss it? “So am I not taking Sawyer back for a sleepover?”
Robbie ran a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know, are you?”
Right—despite all appearances, he wasn’t actually Sawyer’s legal guardian. “Uh,” Finn said. “I mean, I got a text from Imogen asking if I could pick them up. I’m guessing you got one from Sawyer?”
“From my brother.” He pulled his hand away from his face. “He’s not the most organized. Apparently he forgot he promised to play chauffeur this time so your parents weren’t stuck with it.”
“Ah.” Finn rolled that over in his head—a parent so unreliable Sawyer’s best friend figured she’d better book a backup ride.Not the most organizedseemed a mild kind of phrasing.
Before he could figure out whether he wanted to pry, Robbie offered, “It’s kind of nice, actually.”
Nope, Finn didn’t follow. He blinked into the night, shook his head, and turned to Robbie. “Getting stood up slash double booked by your teenager?” He paused and amended, “Someone else’s teenager.”
