The Paladin Book 1 Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Wednesday

November 24th

Alicia’s vibrant blue eyes darted across the computer screen with the utmost intensity and focus as she shoveled in bites of pizza with one hand and clacked away on the keyboard with the other. I slid my backpack across from her seat and plopped my bag and energy drink parallel to her tray. She didn’t seem to notice. I sat down and started unpacking my minimalist PB&J on white bread right in front of her and still nothing was registering. Did I do something wrong? The other day she seemed like she was cool, so I figured I was in the clear. Yet here she was, seemingly giving me the silent treatment.

“Alicia?” I greeted. No response. “Alicia,” I repeated, waving my hand in front of her line of vision. She snapped out of her enticement and turned towards me.

“Oh sorry Booker, sometimes I just kind of get in a zo-holy hell what happened to your face!?” she exclaimed. Well that’s one way to make me feel self-conscious.

“It’s nothing, just a couple of bumps and bruises. Happens to me all the time. Listen, I have a favor to ask you,” I dismissed, inviting a skeptical look.

“I didn’t know we were at the point in our friendship where we were asking each other for favors.”

“Okay, I get that, but hear me out. One of my friends has one of your father’s ICE phones, and I was hoping to pull a prank on him but you guys have that biometric scanner instead of codes,” I started, hoping she might fill in the rest.

“And…?” she replied, clearly not getting where I was going.

“And… do you know of any way around that feature perhaps?” I asked. It was a little forward of me and in hindsight, I probably should have had a better excuse. I was a kid that Alicia just met, that brought her a phone, claimed it was my friend’s, and asked her if she could break into it. I wouldn’t have trusted me.

“So to clarify you ditched my father, chewed me out, and now you’re asking for a favor? And not just any favor, but to crack into one of our paying customer’s security guaranteed phones. Oh, and it’s to prank your friend,” she recounted. Well when you put it like that it sounds terrible.

“I thought we were cool with the whole me being bitchy thing,” I insisted.

“We are, I’m just letting you know what you’re asking. Plus my dad still is pretty pissed about you ditching. He’s not used to being ignored,” she clarified.

“And I apologize, profusely. I’ll make it up to your dad. It’s just very important,” I assured.

“The prank?” she replied with confusion.

“My friend and I are really competitive,” I bullshitted with the utmost confidence.

“Okay… Well there is one way around it I can think of, but I’m going to have to head to my dad’s building to unlock it for you. So how about you face the music while I unlock the phone?” she posed. It was the right thing to do, I felt bad for blowing off her father like that.

“Seems fair to me,” I agreed. She gave me a curious look and then a sly grin. “What?”

“You’re just an interesting person, that’s all,” she noted.

“Probably the most interesting man you’ll ever meet,” I assured with a wink and a bite of my sandwich.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap. Alicia looked at me with a face that said ‘could you not?’. I ceased rapid-fire tapping my foot. It was a nervous habit I had, probably had something to do with my ADHD, I never noticed I was doing it until people started staring at my jackrabbiting legs, and in a four foot by four-foot elevator it was hard not to notice.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“Try not to be so nervous, my dad never gets this worked up over someone blowing him off, clearly he wants you on board. So don’t worry about it,” Alicia suggested. It was easy for her to say. She wasn’t trying out for the position of a lifetime. All she had to do was hack a stupid phone (a stupid phone that I could not hack, I’ll grant you). The elevator shot up into the Tar City skyline in a matter of seconds, reaching the penthouse office in no time at all. Eliminating any opportunity I thought I had to calm my nerves. The heights didn’t help either, we were on the highest floor of the second tallest building in Tar City (next to the Hong center), so even the buses looked like ants from up there. Alicia shoved me out the elevator. “I’ll bring this down to RnD, use the manual override they have down there. Meet you back here in let’s say… fifteen minutes?” she proposed.

“Fifteen minutes? That fast?” I questioned.

“Whatever he plans to do with you, it’ll be fast, he doesn’t like wasting time,” she informed ominously. I gave her a confused look. “See you in fifteen,” she grinned as the elevator doors rolled up. I turned around to see a full waiting room of young men, all with dirty looks and clean suits. They all surrounded one door that was being guarded by a young pretty receptionist who stood as the warden between the vultures and Romero’s office.

“Booker is it?” The young receptionist greeted. The vulture's heads craned in my direction like I had grown a second head out of nowhere.

“That’s cough that’s me,” I confirmed, my throat turning to sandpaper all of a sudden.

“I figured as much, not too many fifteen-year-olds come walking through our doors, save for Alicia,” she explained, with a friendly smile.

“Sixteen,” I managed to get out.

“Huh?”

“I’m uh… I’m sixteen.”

“You’re right, my bad, we get even less of sixteen-year-olds,” she rephrased. Wow, you’re so cool correcting the receptionist. “Alex said that you can go right in,” she informed, motioning me over and opening up the door behind her, attracting even dirtier glances.

“I told you to figure out a way to sell back those bags of bonding graphene! That’s way past our budgets on this one! I don’t care what the manufacturer says! Tell them that if they want to keep us as customers they will send us what we’ve been discussing, not some shit that’s three times the weight!” Alex yelled, slamming his phone to the receiver. I slowly walked in, not really sure how to take that sudden outburst. “Booker! Not gonna lie I’m a little surprised you showed up. Not too many people have the balls to stand me up and even fewer have the balls to come back a few days later." Well we’re off to a great start.

“I guess we’ve established I’m not short on balls,” I joked. He didn’t seem very amused. “It was the right thing to do.”

“So tell me what exactly makes you think the position is still open?” he questioned.

“I don’t know if it’s still open, figured even if it wasn’t I might show up, talk to you face to face about it,” I replied. His gaze changed.

“Well as it so happens, I have a lot of very promising candidates out there. A few PhDs, lots of technological experience, rivaling if not far exceeding your own. If you’d come a couple days ago you might’ve gotten first billing, but as it stands right now you’d probably have to beg just to be considered in the running,” he disclosed. I pursed my lips and clicked my tongue.

“Damn, sounds like I’m out, well thanks for your time Mr. Romero, sorry I ditched you on Monday,” I apologized, offering a handshake.

“So would you beg for the job?” he asked, holding off on the handshake. I pulled back my hand.

“Beg your pardon?”

“That’s the general idea, would you beg for a job here? It’s a pretty simple question.” he asked, I gave him a disapproving look.

“No, I don’t think there’s much I would beg for. And I think that any boss that would ask isn’t one I’d want. See you around Mr. Romero,” I finalized, turning my back on him.

“Hold on Booker, give me one moment." He walked past me, opening up the door to the waiting room. “All you who were waiting for the assistant position can scram, it’s been filled!” he ordered, every young suited man in the waiting room shuffling out with a grumble or two about how they’d been waiting for hours. “Now that they’re out of the way, welcome aboard!” he congratulated, grabbing a hold of my hand and shaking it.

“Oh God am I on one of those social experiment shows?” I groaned, looking around for the hidden cameras.

“No, ha ha ha. This is for real Booker, you’re my new assistant, well more like my idea guy, someone I can pitch things to and can give me a real answer. All my appointments and my logistical stuff are still going to be handled by Suzy, of course,” he began. I put up my hands stopping him in his speech.

“Hold the phone, what the hell is going on? I thought you had more qualified applicants, you know, ‘a few PhDs’ and stuff?” I pointed out.

“Oh they all had PhDs,” he chuckled.

“Then why are you having me as your assistant? I am grossly under-qualified.”

“You’re also not a bootlicker who cares more about his job, or money than his dignity. You know how many PhDs I have working under me, you know how many of them would beg for their job if put on the spot? I’m surrounded by Yes men Booker, you’re my No man.”

“Mr. Romero, with all due respect that’s a horrible idea, I’m a sixteen-year-old kid with very little work experience, how could you possibly think this is rational?”

“This is why you’re my No man, you can be honest with me about my stupid decisions. I need a kid from the Southside that can keep it real with me. Ever since I left Tar City everyone has been kissing my ass and I’m sick of it, I need someone to set me straight every once in a while." I opened my mouth to protest but realized that the more I argued the more I was just proving his point. “Work starts next Monday at four PM, be here,” he finalized. I sighed, who knew the job interview for my dream job was going to be so stressful?

“I make no promises,” I made clear.

“That’s the attitude I like to see, also you call me Mr. Romero again I’ll fire you, I’m Alex, only people I don’t like call me Mr. Romero,” Alex replied jokingly, giving me a pat on the back as I headed out of the office, Alicia waiting outside the door.

“You knew he was gonna do that didn’t you?” I figured.

“Might have had an inkling. Whether or not you would beg for the job, that was a bit more of a mystery,” she replied, handing me the phone with a sticky note on it. 1234. “Overrode the fingerprint scanner and forced it to factory settings, pin code one two three four. Wrote it down just in case you forgot,” she joked. I flipped the note up seeing a number written on the underside. A phone number, and Alicia’s name written in cursive with a little heart over the i. “And in case you need help with any more tech-related pranks, you’ve got my number.”

“This is awesome, I owe you one,” I thanked. Struggling to decide between a knuckle bump or a high five.

“No problem,” she assured with a smile, deciding on a knuckle bump for me. I matched her smile and headed down the elevator, wasting no time in using the phone to track a new lead.

Knox was dangerous, but once I got into his phone his human layers were revealed. His background was of him and his family, two baby boys and his wife, a good start. All it took was about a minute of digging through his applications when bingo, Antonius Security Camera Viewer. I pulled it up, the password auto logged in, and I was brought to a screen with sixteen possible cameras to pick from, all placed throughout and around a small one-floor house. From the phone I could see just about everything, mom wrangling the kids to sit down and do their homework, dog lumbering around the house, every angle conceivable. Another minute later and I was able to find the address of the place, Twenty Robin Avenue. I immediately hailed a cab to the southside affordable housing units down on Robin Avenue, the place wasn’t hard to find, numbers clear as day. Without giving it much thought I got out and strode down the path leading to the front door, passing by bicycles and hockey equipment that had been tossed out of the driveway. Impulsively I knocked on the door, not really having a plan, relying on my improv skills to get me through.

“Hello?” Andrew’s wife greeted apprehensively.

“Hi, Mrs. Knox, Andrew Knox was your husband, correct?” I inquired.

“Haven’t heard Andy’s name in a while, especially not from a teenager. How’d you know him?” she pressed as her apprehension peaked.

“My name’s Booker, I go to STCH, just down the road. This time of year a lot of teachers have us do projects from Thanksgiving to Christmas about giving thanks. I wanted to do mine on fallen local heroes and I heard that Andrew Knox was one of them and that his wife was still in town. Would you mind if I just got a few words from you about him? I just wanna do him justice,” I fibbed. She held her skeptical stare for a couple more seconds then it softened up.

“School project hmm…? Alright, come on in, hope you don’t mind the mess,” she insisted, opening the door up revealing toys scattered about, as well as an array of tools and materials that had all the earmarkings of someone remodeling.

“Not at all Mrs. Knox. You should see my house, the place looks like a bomb went off,” I assured.

“Please call me Nancy,” she replied.

“Alright, Nancy. So I was reading up on your husband on the car ride over, according to newspapers he was announced killed in action during the mid two thousands around Christmas. I can imagine how hard that has been on you and your family,” I started, perusing through the living room, scanning through their old photos.

“It has been, but we pushed through with a lot of help, the rest of his squad member’s families and ours are like one big family. We’re always there to support one another in case things get hard, especially now.”

“Military families are good at that, especially Marines, Semper Fidelis, right?” I concurred, pointing to a photo of Andrew with his squad. She gave me an analytical smile.

“You a brat?”

“My dad was an Army ranger, he would kill me if I didn’t make the distinction between him and Jarhead. Now a cop, his father was in Special Air Service, and my older brother… he was infantry, K.I.A. like your husband about a year ago.”

“Well I’m sorry for your loss. Though I’m sure you’ve heard that a billion times, lord knows I did. I knew I sensed a kindred spirit in you though. My father was Army too, always played it up with Andy like it was a deal breaker that he was a Marine, but I knew he liked him.”

“Little bit of military humor wouldn't be fun if someone's balls weren’t getting busted a little,” I chuckled, she nodded in agreement.

“God I miss his sick sense of humor, and his heart, he was such a nice guy you know?” she sighed. Actually, I don’t, from the brief time I spent with him your husband seemed like a complete asshole.

“Yeah…”

“Him and the squad, all of them had such big hearts. Like I said we’re all like a big family, and that was even before what happened. Family always came first for them, and we thought the best way to honor their memories was to keep in touch, stay close.”

“I’m sure they’d be happy,” I said. Suddenly the two boys came barreling down the hall, one of them plowing into my leg, rebounding to the floor. Nancy looked mortified at her son whereas the two of us shared a snicker.

“Godda… Caleb! What do you say to Booker?” she scolded, cutting herself off.

“Sorry,” the young boy apologized, looking at his feet ashamedly.

“It’s all good little man, I shouldn’t have been in your way,” I assured, giving his hair a ruffle before he bolted off. “I’m having flashbacks from my youth.”

“So you were a troublemaker?”

“Of sorts, I was always following my brother Brandon around that’s for sure. He was the real troublemaker.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah. My dad had to send him off to military school to straighten him out.”

“Well Caleb and Tres have no problem finding trouble, with or without each other's help. Had to pick them both up early from afterschool, Tres for fighting with one of the other boys, Caleb for calling Mrs. Pollock a stupid cow,” Nancy sighed, glaring down the hallway.

“Mrs. Pollock? They go to Brownstone elementary?” I deduced. Nancy nodded. “I went when I was younger, and in Caleb’s defense, Mrs. Pollock wasn’t exactly a smart cow back then,” I clarified, getting a good laugh out of Nancy.

“Yes, well, the woman is watching my kids for two hours each day when they’re not in school, as far as I’m concerned she should be canonized,” she made clear, looking down at her watch. “Crap, is that the time? I’m sorry Booker but I have to head out with the boys in a couple of minutes for hockey,” she realized.

“That’s no problem, you’ve been more than helpful,” I assured. She started looking around and quickly grabbed a pen and pad.

“Tell you what, you seem like a good kid. Let’s exchange numbers, I’ll text you the whole family’s contact info, and explain everything to them so they know about you. I wish I could chat with you more about this but we’re already late as is,” she explained, jotting down her contact info frantically as she offered me a piece of paper to do the same. “Boys! We gotta go! Grab your bags and your sticks!” she yelled. The two boys emerged from their bedroom, sports bags in one hand, sticks in the other.

“Thanks for your time Nancy, I think this is just the information I needed, you’ve been more than helpful,” I finalized, tucking the list into my pocket.

“You’re welcome Booker, feel free to shoot me an email if you ever wanna talk,” Nancy made clear. I gave her one last smile and headed out the front door, a knot of guilt twisting in my stomach after manipulating such a nice woman.

It was pretty late by the time I started heading home, the sun had already started to set and by my estimation, my Mom was going to be back pretty soon to get started on Thanksgiving cooking. I would’ve gotten an Uber home but it turned out I was fresh out of cash. It was a good thing I had landed that job with Romero cause working odd shifts at Hansels wasn’t covering it. I zipped up my hoodie and stuffed my hands in my coat pockets, bracing for the cold night air to roll in. It’s probably best I walk home, I figured, I wanted some time to process all this new information, put a plan together. I strode back home, deep in thought, completely out of the moment, which was probably how the woman from the laundromat also known as Rachel Fyres of SEAL Team Zero managed to sneak up on me. I only heard the last few steps and by that point she had a knife to my side, making it look like a close hug. She was easily identifiable with the shiner I’d given her from last time we met.

“Better prepared than last time,” I noted.

“Shut up and head down, go to the alleyway. You say a word and I’ll make street art with your guts, as well as anyone who comes to help,” she ordered calmly, full control over the situation. I did as I was told, not wanting to get turned into street art, I turned down the nearest narrow alleyway. “Why the hell were you at that house?” she asked, pushing me against the wall, gently applying pressure to the blade until it broke the skin.

“Little bit of insurance, now my associates and I know all about you and your families. You can blame Andy for that one, he didn’t flip but he didn’t do you any favors.”

“And what do you want in return, immunity from us, revoke your contract? Sorry, the people who put out your contract don’t really like broken contracts, and truthfully they scare me a lot more than you do kiddo.”

“Revoke Sylvia White’s contract and a few ground rules. No collateral, no going after families, and you guys will hold off for, let's say for the next week.”

“I’m waiting for the threat superhero, what are you going to do? I kinda wanna hear this.”

“I’m sure you do. I’ll start by making sure everyone knows that you all are still alive, including and especially your families. They’ll be confused, probably angry, it’ll be hard for them to forgive you but I think they’ll get over it. The Government that you betrayed on the other hand, not so much. They’re gonna haul them off as witnesses, place them in some back asswards place in the center of the country so that you’ll never be able to find them again. They’ll be alive, but all of their friends, all of their extended families, their careers… gone. Is that worth Sylvia’s contract?” I warned. Rachel recoiled a little, drawing away the knife. “So what do you think?”

“I’m deciding whether I hate your guts or respect them. You really mean it, don’t you?”

“Just ‘cause I’m a hero doesn’t mean I’m a good person. Do you really wanna find out how far I’m willing to go? Because if you test me, and I will show you how much of a living hell I am willing to put them through, just to get to you." Rachel paused for a moment, giving my threat some thought, evaluating its validity.

“A week and no Sylvia contract? I think we can live with that.”

“I thought you might. Happy Thanksgiving Rachel.”

“Be seeing you around Booker,” she assured, making an eye to eye gesture as she walked off into the streets. I gasped for air, not realizing I’d been holding my breath the entire time. Holy shit. I couldn’t believe that it actually worked, if she had called my bluff I would have been screwed. Instead, I managed to buy myself a week longer.

I walked through the front door a half hour later, the sky dark and cold gusty winds howling across the Peat River. The house was filled with various seasonal scents that wafted throughout the house, reminding me that Thanksgiving was the next day. We had a full house that night, my dad working on the turkey while my mom started on the deserts and prep work for the rest of the food. Meanwhile, my brother propped his feet up on the couch while watching Planes, Trains, and Automobiles on TV, my sister doing her homework at the dinner table, probing my parents with math questions she didn’t get.

“Look who's back. Where’ve you been champ? Feel like I haven’t seen you in a while?” my dad questioned.

“Um… school things, you know studying and stuff,” I answered vaguely.

“Ah yes, school things. Well, I figure you’d like to know that you’ve got a visitor upstairs. So you’re gonna have to do the social things now too, think you can handle that?” my dad replied.

“A what?” I questioned.

“I know, surprised us all to hear you had friends,” Marian teased.

“Marian!” my mom scolded.

“No one asked, you little shit,” I retorted.

“Language Booker! Don’t be calling your sister a little shit,” my dad chimed in.

“Little excrement, happy dad?” I quipped.

“Go, your guest is waiting,” my mom insisted, pointing up the stairs. I hitched my bag and trekked up the stairs and into my room, seeing Johnny sitting down on my window sill. I closed the door behind, figuring he wasn’t here just to catch up on old times.

“Always loved this view. Missed it,” he noted, gesturing out the window to the Peat river.

“Remember when you and I used to run in and Colt would be too chicken,” I recalled.

“To his credit, there were leeches in the river. He always was the smart one. You and I used to come out lookin like leech bait,” Johnny reminded. I shrugged and chuckled a little.

“Never used to stop you. As I recall you were always the first one in,” I countered.

“Guess it never did, huh?” he agreed, with his own chuckle. He pulled out a pack of Marlboro blacks and flashed them to me. “Would you mind? Cold as balls out there?”

“Feel free, just get the window." He nodded, rolling up the window with one hand while he produced a lighter with his other. Then after giving the bottom of his pack a good tap he pulled out a butt and a zippo from his pocket. “Not here to reminisce about the leeches, are you?”

“No, guess not,” he confirmed, taking a few quick drags to get the butt lit. “You’ve been a bad boy, B. Visiting marine widowers and not keeping us in the loop. You’re tracking down leads, and frankly, I’m a little hurt that you didn’t tell me. I thought we had something special.”

“You’ve been following me?”

“Now I thought you were supposed to be taking things easy? Letting me and Samantha do some of the heavy lifting while you were hurt, what happened to that?” he pointed out, deliberately ignoring my query.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I tagged along for a bit. I was getting a little suspicious about you taking the whole injury thing laying down. Figured if it was me injured I wouldn’t be able to help myself and I figured you’re no different. What did you learn from the widow?” he replied, offering me a pull. I snagged the butt taking a deep drag and slowly exhaling, letting some of my stress float out the window with the smoke cloud. Damn, that shit is harsh, I thought as I contained a cough as to not look soft in front of Johnny.

“Learn? Not much, got the names of the four active members in SEAL Team Zero: Rachel Fyres, Andrew Knox, Yoel Greenberg, Dallas Turner. Though, I could have figured that one out without the meeting. I did manage to revoke Sylvia’s contract, now it’s just them and us,” I elaborated, handing him back his cigarette.

“And how’d you do that?”

“Made some bad threats to some bad people. Upside, we’ve also got Thanksgiving off from attempted assassination, so enjoy that." He chuckled at the notion.

“I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. You do realize I have to tell Sam about this though, and she’s not gonna be all too happy that you went around her back, she’s kinda got a thing about trust and lying.”

“What do you mean you have to tell her? What are you, her boyfriend?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you B. If I stepped in the ring you wouldn’t have a chance.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked defensively, causing him to smirk.

“I gotta spell it out for you. You want to… her,” he slowly explained, using his cigarette to make a lude gesture during the inserted pause.

“Dude!”

“Am I wrong? Am I missing something? Cause I’ve been chilling with you and her for only a few days and even I can see that you’ve been staring at her like a fat kid stares at a cake. I can only imagine what it’s like when you two are alone. Hold on, I’d rather not actually.”

“It’s not… there’s nothing going on, Samantha and I are just friends,” I insisted meekly.

“Wow, suddenly I’m totally convinced. What was I possibly thinking before?” he replied mockingly. I couldn’t think of a witty comeback, he had me dead to rights, not much I could say. “Alright, alright, I’m done breaking your balls. In fact, Ol’ wingman Johnny is gonna help a brother out. Tomorrow we’re goin’ to the football game and then we’re doin’ a big Thanksgiving spread, you remember my mom likes to do one every year-”

“Hell yeah dude, how could I forget? Rosa doing the pork shoulder instead of a turkey. So damn good-”

“Pernil, don’t bring it up, you're making me hungry just thinking about it. Anyway, I’m gonna go to the game with Gerry and Samantha, and afterward, they’re coming over. So I invite you over, we make nice with the parents, eat some grub, then afterwards I’ve got a handle of Jack and a quarter of green. I figure we all have a good time, then I leave you two to your own devices.”

“Ever think that it seems a little hypocritical, us underage drinking and smoking weed while we bust other criminals?” I pointed out. He raised an eyebrow giving me a questioning look as he blew cigarette smoke out the window. “I mean it’s not gonna stop me, just acknowledging that it’s a thing.”

“Gee darn, should've told me earlier, maybe I wouldn’t have lit this cigarette. Now I have guilt,” he mocked. Fair enough. “Come on B, we might be superheroes but we’re still teenagers, gotta act like it sometimes. Besides, you just said you bought us a week off, I say take it. I mean look at you man, you look like a side of meat after a Rocky training montage,” he reminded. It was a good point, I hadn’t given myself a break in a couple weeks and my body was paying the price. Even as I stood there in my room my body was wailing for me to lay down and take a break.

“Ugh, you’re probably right,” I agreed, plopping onto my bed with a soft thump. “It just kills me man, even though I got the hit called off of Sylvia there’s still those human traffickers and whoever their boss is. Byron wasn’t the end. Until I find them I just keep thinking about those people at the docks, and how they were the lucky ones that managed to get out, starving, confused, far from home.”

“Shit… I don’t know, all I know is you can’t be everything, to everyone, all the time. What’s going on with those people is messed up, no one denies that, but if you keep going like this you won’t be able to save anyone anymore. Then it’ll be up to me and Sam to protect this city and I know you don’t want that,” he scoffed, eliciting a slight smile from me.

“You guys aren’t that bad. I was a bit harsh on you at first but honestly, you’re a lot better at this than I was at the beginning. I mean it was a miracle that I made it through those first couple months alive,” I admitted, motioning him to pass the cigarette back, taking another long drag when he did. “Don’t get used to these, your lungs will look like an old ballsack if you keep smoking ‘em, and trust me you do not need that when you’re being chased by men with UZIs and AKs.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about my ballsack lungs while you hold the rest of the world on your shoulders? Sound good?” he proposed, taking back his burned down cigarette and putting it out in the little gap between the window sill and the screen.

“You do you Johnny boy.”

“I do it better than anyone else,” he confirmed, getting a chuckle out of me. “And with that I bid you adios mi amigo. It’s already dark out, and I’m more worried about my mom and the earful I’ll get if I’m not back for dinner than any damn lung,” he made clear, eliciting another laugh out of me.

“So dinner tomorrow?”

“Dinner tomorrow,” he confirmed with a nod. “I’ll text you the details tomorrow once I get a plan together. See you then Book.”

“See you Johnny,” I replied as he headed out, leaving me staring up at the eggshell ceiling of my bedroom.