“He need more money?”
“Of course. But it’s worse than that.”
My heart thumps heavy, and my spine straightens. “All right,” I say, bracing myself. “Just let me have it.”
She lets out a hollow laugh, knowing that I’m more of a rip off the band-aid type of person. She is, too. Must be from years of dealing with bad news.
“He lost his job. Didn’t pass a random drug test.”
A groan crackles up my throat, and I go face first into the middle cushion separating us. Her fingers pat my head reassuringly, like the thousands of times I’ve done that for her. I honestly didn’t think he’d lose the job; they’ve kept him around for years, and despite how horrible he is with money, he’s good at what he does.
I lift my head, her knee closer than I thought to my nose. “How’s Demi?”
“I don’t know yet. I got the call about five minutes ago.”
No wonder she was in a rush off the half-pipe. “I’ll talk to her.” I sit up, big brother mode trying hard to kick in. “They got any savings?”
It’s a stupid question; I knew it as the words come out of my mouth. I said it anyway. Hope is a funny thing.
She snorts. Yeah, I figured as much.
“How much are they asking?”
“They want to know if we can cover their mortgage this month.”
There goes Christmas money.
Ah, shit. “Will Demi have presents?”
“From us, probably.”
I grit my teeth and hold back the burst of anger rippling through my chest. Maddie isn’t the one I want to direct it to. But seriously, a random drug test got him. He needs to stop it with this shit and take care of his family.
“I got Christmas for her,” I say, my mind scrambling for some idea to give my baby sister a good holiday. “Invite her over to spend the night. I’m sure Mom and Dad will be okay with it.”
Maddie nods, her eyes unfocused on the helmet in her lap. She’s got the competition to focus on—I need to carry a bit more of the responsibility than Christmas.
“I’ll ask for extra hours. We’re packed and lots of people don’t feel like working during winter break. I’m sure I can get some more shifts.”
“Okay.” She nods again, her eyes still unfocused. I know the look—she’s thinking of whether or not to bail them out again.
“Hey,” I say, tapping on her helmet to get her attention. Her eyes drift slowly up to meet mine. “We give them a month. He’s gotta clean up, though. Look for jobs. He has to be able to pass a drug test.”
“And if he doesn’t?” she says, frustration leaking into every syllable. I get it. I’m skeptical, too.
“I say we ask Demi to move in. We’re taking care of her already, aren’t we?”
She runs a hand over her face, messing up her eyebrows. She rubs her temples with her thumb and middle finger. “Who’s gonna take her to school, Pete?”
“I can.”
“On your motorcycle.”
“Sure.”
“In the winter.”
“I’ll get her a really good coat.”
She lets out a laugh that turns quickly into a groan, and now it’s her turn for her face to meet the cushion. “I just don’t know what’s the right thing.”
I pat her head and let her breathe through it. We’ve been here enough with our parents to know how to deal, but this one’s pretty damn rough.
“Your hair’s really gross,” I say, tickling her slightly behind the ear.
“Yeah…”
“Kinda stinks.”
“That’s your upper lip.”
I pinch her earlobe, and she skirts away. When she rises, there’s a small smile in the corner of her mouth. It’s a hopeless smile, but a smile nonetheless.
“We’ll figure out the right thing,” I tell her, even though I’m not sure if I believe it myself.
“We’re kinda awesome like that,” she agrees with the same lack of enthusiasm. She blows out a breath and pushes her helmet back into place.
Boom!
The break room door flies open, and I jump out of my skin. Maddie legit lets out an “oh!”
“Pete?” Candace’s voice comes from near the time clock just out of view.
“Present,” I call back. She storms farther into the room, her eyes dead locked on me. Her red-brown hair is frizzed from her hat, which is hooked onto her belt loop. Her Troublemaker polo has one side of the collar popped and the other lying flat against her shoulder. Her chest heaves up and down, like she bolted the entire way from the kiddie rides to here.
“Teach me how to be bad.”
Candace
A gasp slips through my teeth as my eyes swivel from Pete to the extremely pretty girl next to him. My tongue hits that spot I bit off on the inside of my bottom lip as I say, “Uh… who’s that?”
Pete smirks and he and this girl share a look. Does Pete have a girlfriend? I feel like I would know that about him.
He meets my eyes, ignoring my question altogether. “You want me to teach you… what?”
My tongue continues to push against the canker sore, heat crawling up and down my spine. “This… this is an employee’s only break room,” I squeak out. What if a manager comes in? Will they fire Pete on the spot for using this as a personal make-out closet? He can’t get fired. I need him.
Pete lets out a chuckle, but it sounds a little off. He pats the girl’s knee a couple times, and they both push from the couch. “I better clock back in anyway.”
He’s talking to her, I think, but I answer. “But I need… Something happened and you’re the only… I mean, you’re not completely out of break time, are you?”
Usually Pete has some sort of joke or smirk or something, but his smile is only just there and more like he’s completely exasperated by me. My defenses start to rise. I’m exhausting? Please. He’s the one back here with a non-employee probably touching naughty bits and geez, I’m sorry for penis-blocking, but she’s not supposed to be back here anyway.
I cross my arms, jutting my hip. My Troublemakers cap bumps against my leg, and I push back at the frustration biting at the backs of my eyeballs.
He locks eyes with the cute girl who can pull off a helmet. “We can talk more later.”
“If I’m up,” she says, then they both let out this sigh that’s completely harmonized between them. Her dark brown eyes flick to me, and she gives me a friendly wave. “Sorry for being back here. Drama, drama. Needed a private place to chat, you know?” She kicks her skateboard up and slaps it on her shoulder. “See you at home, Pete.”
She squeezes by me, her skateboard coming awfully close to the time clock on the wall. The heavy break room door shuts with a click behind her.
My mouth hangs open like a dead fish. Okay, I probably owe him an apology for the interruption, but I can’t remember what accusations I said out loud versus what I said internally, and I don’t want another Amber incident when I overanalyze and then make a butt of myself.
Pete crosses his arms and falls sideways until his shoulder hits the wall. “I really gotta clock back in, Candace.”