I clear my throat. “I—might have something.”
Pops’s eyes narrow, amused. “Might?”
I wince.
“You have such little faith in me,” I say, pretending to be wounded.
Pops exhales a laugh, and it turns into a cough. He presses his right hand to his temple, breathing through it.
I lean forward automatically. “You okay?”
He waves me off. “I’m fine. Tell me about this plan.”
I tell him the details before Sloane gets back with dinner.
After we’ve had our fill of Thai food, we get Pops settled back into the hospital bed that lives in the living room, and I send a quick text from the couch while Sloane is in the kitchen.
hey.
The reply comes before I can lock my screen.
Jade: what’s up?
I glance up at Pops, who’s giving me a look that’s equal parts curious and entertained.
I type back.
I need your help. I’m trying to do something nice for Sloane.
Three dots appear, then:
Jade: …oh
Jade: HOLD PLEASE
I stare at the screen.
Pops leans back on his pillows, eyes twinkling. “You’re sweating.”
“I’m not sweating,” I mutter.
My phone buzzes again.
A new text thread appears.
Jade added Blakely. Of course she did.
Blakely: who is this and why is jade yelling?
Jade: IT’S LOGAN
Blakely: like … Logan, Logan?
Jade: YES
Blakely: lol hi.
Pops makes a satisfied sound like he approves of this chaos.
