“Yo, Z.” Ollie steps up beside us. “You care if A takes me home? I… I, uh…” He glances around the room nervously.
Asking for something is hard. “As long as it’s fine with him I’m okay with it.”
“I brought my bike,” I inform him. “We can hang out here or at your house.”
His little face lights up with a smile. “Hell yes.” He rushes off to finish putting his supplies up.
I pause beside where Cody is sitting with his phone in his lap. “You good?” It’s for only his ears.
“Yeah.”
“Where you heading?”
“Thinking about going uptown.” Our code word for my place. If the other kids found out he stays with me, they’d eat his ass alive.
I nod. “Be safe. Make smart decisions.”
I take the longer route home and open it up on empty streets to hear Ollie laugh carefree. I like to let him enjoy the finer things his life doesn’t offer and I take for granted. Moments like these remind me of the hell I’ve overcome.
I park in front of the dingy-looking house with two flowerpots holding dead plants on the decrepit porch. The sidewalk leading to the home is cracked with chunks missing from the concrete and weeds taking root between the cracks. The house doesn’t fare much better. The soft yellow siding is stained with years of wear and tear, and the windows are dirty and missing most of their screens.
Ollie hops off and hands me the helmet that was too big for his head even after I tightened it down as snugly as it could go. “Mom brought home a new guy last week.” He kicks a rock under his foot.
I lean against my bike, crossing my ankles. “Yeah? Is this good or bad?”
He keeps toeing that rock. “My pops is still in jail and she’s out doing her thing. None of it’s with me either.”
Ollie’s mother adores him. It’s in her eyes, on her smile, in the way she tries so hard for him. “Your mom’s been working really hard to provide for you. You meet him yet?”
He nods.
“And? You like him?
“He tossed the football with me the other day.”
Fastest way to a football player’s heart. Ollie loves the game and is damn good at it too. I’m not just blowing smoke out of my ass either. Kid can play and if he stays on the right path, I bet my savings account he’ll have agents knocking down his door.
“That had to be fun.”
He doesn’t respond and keeps his head down.
I push off my bike and squat in front of him. “Just because this guy is in your life doesn’t mean you stop loving your dad. Your pops made his mistakes and now he’s paying the price. Your mom deserves to be happy. So do you. I bet this new guy is just as nervous to get to know you as you are him.”
“He’s not mom’s type. Hell, he ain’t like what’s around here. Business-like. Always clean cut and wears expensive-looking suits. He’s got a sic ride too. He bought us groceries last week.”
“Do you feel safe around him?”
“Ain’t been around him a lot.”
“You have every right to be wary. You’re the man of the house and protecting your momma. But I know she would never put you in a bad situation. She’d die before that happens. She loves you a heck of a lot.” I nudge him trying to ease the seriousness. “What was your first impression of me when we met? Be honest.”
His little grin is devilish. “You were bad news. Take no shh-stuff off no one. A hard ass.”
I like how he stopped from saying shit but let ass roll right on. “Dude, you didn’t go easy on me, huh?” I chuckle. “And now what do you think of me?”
The corners of his mouth curls up. “You’re cool as hell, A.”
“Take it from me. Don’t judge someone because of what they wear or how they look.”
He nods, but doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Give him a try. You never know. He may move you all out of the slums and into some nice, richy neighborhood with a high ranking school.”
His laugh is empty. “They won’t let me in no high rank.”
I shove his shoulder. “You’re smart, Ollie. Smartest kid I know. Don’t sell yourself short.” I get to my feet. “Besides. One look at how good you play ball and they’ll be begging you to be on their team.”
Finally, his hazel eyes find mine and they gleam. “You think?”
“Dude, I know.” And I’m dead serious.
The grin on his face, all teeth and ear to ear, shines. “Thanks, A.”
“You got my number. You need me, you call. Anytime, any day.”
We knuckle bump and I stay behind to watch him until he’s safely in his house before climbing back on my bike to head home.
Chapter Six
The communal table looks like the art supply aisle blew up. Construction paper, markers, scissors, glue, tape, and scraps of different colors litter around it. Even the walls aren’t safe from the brainstorm explosion. Post-It notes line the tall poster boards, the clusters all color coded for ideas and patterns. Heather and Jana work on prototypes of tabloid-sized prints. David pitches the commercial ideas. Lucia and I focus on the gallery-style advertisements. It’s the chaos I live for—creativity bursting from every crevice of our heads and personalities. It’s what happens when we have a large project.
“I’d say after this hellacious week, we deserve a night of drinks. Whatcha say?” Lucia tucks away a stack of unused construction paper.
My fingers dig into my temples. I’m brain fried. “Hot bath, wine, and soft pillows sound far superior.”
“You’re right. I doubt I’ll make it to nine.” She checks her phone, her thumbs working as she types. “I’ve got another session with Ash tomorrow. Come with me and then after we’ll go out and celebrate getting through the week.”
No freaking way I’ll sit across from Ash and watch him work. Seeing him peek out from his concentration mode as he flashes a small smile… Nope. It’s a fluster I don’t need or want.
“Why don’t you text me when you’re almost done and I’ll meet you somewhere,” I counter.
Her brows notch up. “You don’t want to stare at the eye candy while he works on my tat?”
“That’s exactly why I don’t want to come,” I admit. “It’s awkward to just sit there.”
“He’s totally into you.”
“Pffft.” I roll my eyes with a huff. “He likes the thought of me. You heard Delia. Virgin skin and all.”
“Ever heard of opposites attract?”
“It’s one thing to be opposites. It’s another to be polar opposites.”
“It could be a Sandra Bullock and Jesse James love,” she says, batting her eyes.
I scoff. “And look how that ended. Ash is the type of man who doesn’t do real relationships. Probably wants his freedom and the permission to screw anyone.”
“You sure your awesome pessimistic accusations aren’t stemming from your past experiences?”
“No matter how unbelievably sexy he is, he’s a total bad boy and I’m not too keen about being turned rogue myself.”