“They never come to career day.” I’m trying not to smile, but I know the twitching of my lips betrays me. I’m not used to this kind of back-and-forth. My sort-of ex liked to keep things pragmatic. His idea of a romantic text was,Do the extra credit on the quiz in gov. You get points even if it’s wrong.
Swoon!
Felix reaches into his jacket and pulls out a notebook andballpoint, scrawling something on a blank page. After adding a few more slashes of ink near the bottom, he tears out the paper and offers it to me. “This is my number. I’ll be around for a while if you want to hang out. In a totally non-creepy way,” he adds when I hesitate. “Brightly lit public place. No duct tape.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Pretend I didn’t mention the duct tape.”
“Classic blunder.”
“It’s surprisingly hard not to monologue about your evil plans. It slips out.”
I pluck the paper out of his hand. “No promises.”
He nods, watching me slide on my sunglasses.
“Okay, then. I’m going.” I don’t move.
“I’ll let you get a head start.”
“Good.” I’m not sure what else to say, so I jerk my chin at him then head for the exit.
“Hey, Katie,” Felix calls as the doors slide open in front of me. I glance back at him. “Claw me, maybe?” He paws at the air like he’s starring in a no-budget production ofCATS, minus the leotard.
I shake my head, but I’m grinning as I step outside.
CHAPTER TWOTHE BODY IN THE VAN
There’s a moment after leaving the air conditioning when I think,This is okay. I can handle it.It’s like when you cut yourself shaving and at first there’s no blood but thensurprise!Your shin looks like something out of a Stephen King novel.
That’s what’s happening to me now, but there’s no Band-Aid that can fix this. It’s too hot to stand still, but also too hot to move. My eyeballs feel like they’re being flambéed. When the Three Sisters minivan pulls up to the curb, wavering in the heat like a mirage, I use the last of my life force to throw myself into the back seat.
The AC is blasting. I lift my head so the air can hit me in the face, whimpering softly. Sofia, the youngest of the Reyes sisters, twists to hand me a glass water bottle dripping with condensation. Before I take a drink, I roll the ice-cold surface across my forehead and cheeks.
“Thanks,” I gasp between sips.
“Summer,” she says, like that explains it.
Which I guess it does, since I usually come the week between Christmas and New Year, and again during spring break, when the weather is warm but not trying to cook you alive. June is when Grandma Lainey typically visits us, by which I mean “me,” since she’s theoretically babysitting while my mom’s boss takes their whole office on vacation. My grandmother is to babysitters as Mary Poppins is to nannies (adventurous, colorful, not especially risk-averse), but it’s easier on everyone if she and my mom don’t spend too many nights under the same roof.
When I go to Florida, Grandma Lainey always books Three Sisters Transportation to pick me up and drop me off, as well as for the occasional day trip, so over the years I’ve gotten to know all of them. You can tell a lot about their personalities by their background listening. Carmen likes loud, up-tempo pop, Elena prefers soothing classical, and Sofia is a news junkie. Running the shuttle is a side hustle while they put themselves through school, but they’re professional about it, down to the jade green shirts embroidered with the company name. According to my grandma, they’ve cornered the coveted “errands for old people” market.
“How was the flight?” Sofia asks as the radio station delivers a weather update (ninety-five degrees and 90 percent humidity). She’s not that much older than I am, but it seems like a bigger gap since she turned twenty-one and took on more of the driving duties.
“Good.” My fingers find the paper in my pocket. This is the first time someone has given me their number spontaneously, in public, like we’re in a movie. And the tiny sketch below it, of a girl in a cute dress and sneakers? That’s definitely me.
Maybe I’ll text him. Would that be weird?
“What about your mom? Is she doing okay?”
My grin deflates. Speaking of strange.
“She just got married.” Most people default toremarried, because of Mom’s age and the fact that she has me, but this was her first “I do.”
Sofia catches my eye in the rearview mirror. “And how’s that going?”
“It’s different.” There is nothing objectively wrong with my stepfather, aside from the fact that I am not used to him living at my house. Where he can hold my mom’s hand at the breakfast table even if it means awkwardly eating his cereal left-handed.
