“Is it?”
“Nah. I’m being polite.”
He grins like I just performed a cute yo-yo trick.
If that’s how he likes it, far be it from me to go easy on him. “Stepmom or stepdad?” I ask, leading the way outside.
“Stepfather.” His tone saysI am holding in a lot of negative emotions.
I wait for him to fall in beside me, both of us squintingagainst the blazing brightness of early afternoon. It’s almost enough to make me wish I’d gotten up earlier. “Has he been in the picture long?”
“Coming up on their one-year anniversary.”
I scramble for a less gloomy response thanGood to know it doesn’t get better!“At least you get to leave for college soon.”
“In two more years, you mean?” He turns his head, daring me to spin that.
“It could be worse?” I suck at being Mary Sunshine.
“I think I read that on a poster once.” His tone is thoughtful, like he’s trying to unearth the memory. “There was a kitten, stuck in a tree.”
“At least he wasn’t your algebra teacher, okay?”
That shuts him up. Briefly. “Your mom married your math teacher?”
I shrug, pressing the button for the walk signal with more force than it probably requires. I’m not going to say it twice.
“That’s… wow.”
“Pretty much.” I hope he appreciates the gift I’ve handed him. As far as I’m concerned, the scales are balanced.Was I rude? Oh, I’m sorry. Have these nuclear codes!
He doesn’t speak as we cross the street, maneuvering around a car pulled halfway into the intersection. My guess is he’s cooking up some math jokes. Either that or offering a silent prayer of thanks that he isn’t me.
“It’s always a competition with you, isn’t it?” he finally says, surprising me into a laugh.
I flick my hair off my shoulder. “Checkmate.”
“So is that it, then? All your embarrassing secrets?”
“Why?” I hope he doesn’t hear the undercurrent ofWhat have you heard?
“The rule of three. I wanted to get the whole trifecta of Virginia intel.”
My hesitation is a fraction of a second too long. “Just the suitcase and the stepdad.”
“So far.” He grins, and it gets awkward real quick, likeWho even are we right now?Not to mention the risk of walking into traffic with all this eye contact. When I force myself to look away, my gaze lands on a massive sign hanging from the chain link fence to our right.
“Is that Odell as in Bradley Odell?” I raise my arm to point, in case Felix somehow misses the gigantic Odell Property Development logo claiming ownership of this empty lot.
“Whoa.”
“I guess that’s why he introduced himself like that.” I’m playing back my memory of that day at the pool, and the slight emphasis Bradley placed on his last name. Maybe he was used to people recognizing the “Odell” part, and that was my cue to be starstruck.
“Kind of puts it in a different light,” Felix says.
I shake my head, not following.
“What if he wasn’t talking out of his ass? About his Frat Bro Dream Palace. If his family is in property development, he could have been serious.”
