I knew exactly why. Because at house upon house I’d struck out. People had no interest in what I had to say. They’d seen Rylie’s signs, had heard of his campaign, knew his family, and didn’t give a crap about his actual platform. He was a known quantity, whereas I was a stranger. A dark-haired, dark-skinned stranger, with a message they didn’t even want to hear. “Please.” This last came out as awhine.
“Are you in danger?” The man’s face tightened, his scruff-covered jaw grew hard, his too-curvy mouth thin and aggressive. I stopped myself from stepping back, and I refused to look behind me, but Rylie and his family were close. I could hear their cultured voices in respectfully quietconversation.
“Oh my gosh, am I?” I didn’t have to fake the tremors in my voice, because they scared me, or intimidated me, at the very least. I shut my eyes for a second, wishing I’d just headedhome.
“Idon’t—”
“Are they coming?” I whispered. I couldn’t look behind me. I refused to. But if this man caught sight of them, with their tasteful signage and their strong economic message, I wasscrewed.
“They?”
I searched for something to make this forbidding person invite me in. “Yes. Um. They’re afterme.”
“Who—”
“The perfect family behind me. Seethem?”
“I can’tsee—”
“They’re carrying signs, headed thisway.”
“I hear them. They’renot—”
Ok. Change of tack. “Could I use your restroom? Please?” I paused, finally, and listened to him breathe. It was easy, given that my face was right in front of the guy’s lean, muscle-packed chest. Iblinked.
Oh no. He wasn’t going to do it, was he? He was going to leave me out here to pit my mess of an existence against the pristine, polished perfection of Wily Rylie. And everybody knew who’d winthatbattle.
A sigh and a step back were the only invitation I needed. I followed him inside, the door closed, and the last thing I noticed was the Captain America logo on his T-shirt before everything wentdark.
What have Idone?
“Hang on. I’m turning onlights.”
Why aren’t there any lights on? What kind of person hangs out in thedark?
He flipped on a glaringly bright overhead and I stood, transfixed. There was nothing—or close to it—in this room. A quick swivel of just my eyes showed a clean, bare wood floor, with nothing but a pair of sneakers lined up neatly beside the front door. The rooms leading off the entryway were big and open and mostly empty. I sucked in abreath.
“You know, I should probably go. This wasn’t thebest—”
“I’mblind.”
“Huh?”
“That’s why there are no pictures on the walls or rugs and stuff. No pictures because I wouldn’t be able to see them. No lights because what’s the point? Everything’s bright to me all the time anyway. And rugs are justobstacles.”
My relieved “oh” came out sounding like a sigh. I focused on him again—all chiseled cheekbones and wide jaw, with big, light eyes. There was a bump on the bridge of his nose, which was possibly the only thing between him and perfection, but even that was masculine in a charmingway.
“I can’t read whatever it is you’re toting around. The thing that’s stabbing me in the leg rightnow.”
“Shit! I’m so sorry.”Shit! No cussing in front of the voters.One hand flew to cover my potty mouth as I threw my yard signs down and bent to look at his leg. “I mean crap. Imean—”
“I know what you mean.” He paused. “Am Ibleeding?”
“I’m an idiot.” I was babbling, now, but I couldn’t seem to stop. This whole thing screamed lawsuit. “Please don’t sueme.”
I sank to my knees and leaned in close to this man’s shorts-clad leg, words all the while spewing from my mouth. It must have been exhaustion pushing me to this verbaldiarrhea.
“I should have listened to Mami. She told me this was a bad idea.Keep your nose out of their politics, she said, over and over. But Mira’s dad got taken away—to some holding facility, it turned out, before they sent him back to Honduras—and then Jace’s mom got sick and wouldn’t have been able to pay for chemo if it weren’t for us teachers and some of the parents pitching in. Then sweet little Devon wearing that confederate flag T-shirt. I held it together. Right up until the end of the school day, when I pulled him aside and explained that the symbol could hurt people’s feelings, but he’s just four. He cried because his favorite cousin gave it to himand…”
