I realized, too late, that I was staring.And he was watching me stare.
“Later,” Bobby shouted.“This first.”
“I wasn’t—” I said.“I didn’t—” And then, too late “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He didn’t even bother to reply, which, all things considered, was honestly a relief.He strode off—a slight hitch in his step because of, well, his war wound.Without breaking his pace, he collared a blond boy in a rugby shirt who was trying to swing a pool cue like a baseball bat.He said something that made the boy release the pool cue, stand ramrod straight, and then—honest to God—throw a shaky salute to Bobby.And not in a smartass way—the poor kid looked like he was about to burst into tears.
Okay, I thought.I can do that.
I caught a group of them—clearly the popular kids, with a dark-haired little TikTok starlet who was obviously the ringleader—trying to break into the liquor cabinet.
“Get away from that!”I said.
The kids traded looks, and the starlet said, “Uh, this party isn’t for old people.”
“It’s my house,” I said.“And that’s my liquor cabinet.I don’t want to have to ask you to leave—Keme would be disappointed.”
“Who?”
Fortunately, at that point, Indira swooped in.She didn’t even say anything—she didn’t have to.The kids bolted.
“Thanks,” I said.“I mean, I totally had that under control—”
Bobby trotted up to us.“There’s a group of them jumping off the roof.And we’ve got a couple rounding second base in the coat closet.”
“Oh my God,” I said.“Wait, which one is second base?Is that, uh, the nethers?”
Bobby looked like he might be reconsidering his choice to date me, but thankfully, Indira said, “I’ll take the ones on the roof.”
“I’ll purge the coat closet,” Fox said.They had popped up out of nowhere, and they were carrying what appeared to be a squirt gun.(A Super Soaker Splashmouth, to be precise.)
“Raccoon at twelve o’clock,” Bobby said—to me, of all people, because now there was nobody else.As he jogged off, he called, “I’ll put out the fire in the backyard.”
“What fire?”I called after him.
But I immediately stopped worrying about it because I realized that meantIhad to take care of the raccoon.
It didn’t get any better from there.I scared the raccoon off.(Well,hescaredmeoff, but then he ran out of the house, so it was still a win.) We busted kids with vapes.We busted kids trying to sneak in a beer bong (even though there wasn’t any beer).I gave an impassioned lecture (that made me go hoarse) about listening to music at safe volumes.(Nobody heard me.) I watched a girl puke up a Funyun—whole!!!—into an antique vase.
At ten o’clock, I found Bobby.The tic was gone, and he looked grimly pleased with himself.Because of course he did.Because he had, after all, chosen to become a cop.
“Last call,” Bobby said.“Tell Keme we’re about to give his friends the bum’s rush.”
“WhereisKeme?”I asked.“I haven’t seen him all night.”
Bobby opened his mouth to answer.And then worry tightened his features, and he set off at a jog.
(I settled for a brisk walk.)
We found Keme outside, and we saw him before he saw us.He was wearing one of his ragged hoodies, a familiar pair of threadbare shorts, his cracked slides.His long hair was loose, and it blew in his face every time the wind picked up, but he didn’t seem to notice.He was pacing, mumbling to himself and clutching a bouquet, and I recognized the familiar brand of adolescent terror in his blank eyes.
“Oh my God,” I said, and my heart gave a squeeze that was somewhere between pain and happiness.
Bobby said a word he cannotsay on duty.
“He’s going to tell her,” I whispered.“He’s going to tell Millie.”And then I took in Keme again, more carefully this time, and I said, “Bobby, we’ve got to help him.”
5
