“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hey,” she replied.
“How’s things?Youhangin’ inthere?”he asked.
She nodded.
“Cool,” he said, feeling something he’d never felt before.
Uncomfortable.
Unsure.
Like a dork.
Man, she was pretty.
And man, he was a dick, when all he could think was howpretty she was, and her mom hadn’t been under dirt for a full year.
“Thanks for the note,” she said.
“I get it,” he told her.
“Yeah, I saw your dad’s stone.I get that you do,” shereplied.
“Honey!”
They both looked in the direction of the call.
The dad was looking impatient and not too hip on hisdaughter chatting with Jag.
The brother had the same exact look.
“Be right there,” she yelled back.
“I’ll let you go, but you know how to get me, you need me,yeah?”Jag asked.
He was talking about exchanging notes.
What he wanted to do was get her number.
“Yeah,” she answered.“Thanks,” she said, tucking her blackhair behind her ear.
And he wondered about her mom.The dad was tall and blond.
She was not either.
Nor was her brother.
She stepped off the curb and said, “Later?”
This was the time he should ask for her number or give herhis.
But how did he do that when her brother and father wereright there?
“Later,” he said, though he didn’t know how that wouldhappen, unless she left him a note, which could be intercepted by someone otherthan Hound, like Dutch or his mom, and they wouldn’t be as cool about it.
He watched her walk to her dad and brother, thinking heshouldn’t.
