Page 13 of Dandelions and Smoke

Her eyes narrow and her shoulders drop as she purses her lips and shakes her head at me.

I shrug. My brother’s been a pain in the butt these last few months, so it wouldn’t be uncalled for. The door chimes, and Tris walks in just in time.

“Brat, stop breaking Ainsley’s face. You’re going to be the reason she gets premature frown lines.”

I throw my lopsided grin her way before glancing back at Ainsley.

“You’re right, it’s going to be an amazing night,” I say, fluttering my eyes innocently, pulling a chuckle from her.

“Here,” Tris says, motioning for me to give her the tray of cups and plates that I forgot I’m holding. “I’ve got the rest.”

Now that Tris is back from her walk with Ellie and cleaning up her table, I pull out my end-of-shift checklist from my apron. There wasn’t always a checklist, but after realizing I kept forgetting something each time, I made one. I always save sweeping for last.

I hate it.

It’s like an irrational bout of both rage and dread fills me every time I have to pick up this broom, but alas, it must be done, so once I finish everything else first and there’s nothing left, I get to it.

I don’t hate the act of sweeping itself. Rather, I hate that every time I think I’ve finished a section, I notice something else. Then, when I go back to clean it up, I find seven more things in different areas that I have to sweep.

Immediately.

So, because of that, the other section that I left the first time? Yeah, I forget about it until I think I’ve finished, but when I look over what I think is a job well done, I realize there’s more, and it feels like I’m back to square one.

It’s madness.

It’s frustrating.

And it’s just the way my brain works.

“Give it to me.” Tris holds her hand out, reaching for the broom.

“Yeah, right. Are you sure you’ve fully learned how to use this thing?” I tease, but hand the offensive chaos stick over to her anyway.

“Listen, Brat,” she chides, one eyebrow lifting while the other stays stubbornly still. “There aren’t many people I’d do manual labor for, but if I don’t take this from you now, then you’ll wind up being here all night, and you don’t have time for that.”

“This is true.” I smile and give her a wink. I’m beyond grateful for her, and she knows it, so no need to get all mushy about it.

While she sweeps, I grab my stuff and get ready to leave, only to realize I’ve locked my keys in my car… again.

“Ughhhhhhh.” I drop my backpack and elbows onto the counter and place my head in my hands as I try to stay calm and take a deep breath to focus.

After my first night in Turtle Bay, I found my brother, who I’d say was less than thrilled to find out about me. I was worried that he’d keep ignoring me and pretend that I didn’t exist, but that’s kind of hard to do when I’m living down the hall, his idea. I think it was meant to be temporary, but after I proved to be helpful as a caretaker for his mom, Sara, he finally started to accept me.

Sara became more of a mom to me over the next few months than my mom ever was. She was kind to me, told me stories of her childhood in Uruguay, encouraged me to chase my dreams, taught me how to cook a few meals, and reminded me of what’s truly important: family. My hand finds the place where the ache lingers as I rub at the emptiness her absence has left behind.

Before she died, she told me I was the answer to her prayers, that even though I wasn’t her flesh and blood, she saw me as a daughter, mija, she said, and more importantly, she knew her son would never be alone because he’d always have me. We held her funeral at the beginning of July, and soon after that, Blake began to spiral. He pushed all of us away, including his girlfriend Emma. I refused to give up on him, even if it was only to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone, but it wasn’t easy watching him hurt like that.

It took months, but he’s finally starting to get back to his old self, and tonight I’m helping him win Emma back. Not only me, of course. A huge amount of planning has gone into making tonight happen. Even my cousin Lucas and the Tampa Bay Hawks are all in on it, as well as Blake’s friends, who have also become mine.

It seems I went from no friends or family to an overwhelming amount overnight. Blake has done his rounds of apologies, and now the only one left is Emma. And I’m going to ruin everything if I can’t get the rest of my to-do list done before tonight. I’m in charge of the kettle corn for the concession stands, for crying out loud. I can’t bring it there if I can’t drive.

“I can’t do anything if I can’t get into my car!” I cry out, vocalizing my distress mid-thought.

“I’ve already called Billy. He’s on his way,” Ainsley says, reassuring me that everything will be okay with a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“When did you manage that?” My brows push together, but the knot of anxiety is already loosening inside me.

I wish I could say this is the first time that I’ve locked my keys in my car, but it’s not. It’s like the more stretched I am, the more things I have on my mind, the less room I have for anything not as important. Not that I get to decide what is or isn’t ‘important’. I would love to forget about half the conversations that replay in my head, the showtune theme songs that I have memorized word for word, or exactly where I can find a paper clip back at the house, but no. My keys are always the first victim and the first sign that I need to slow down, take a breath, and refocus.