JUNO: It’s a playdate.
ARROW: Size on skates?
OZZY: Women’s 8. My size… whatever doesn’t kill me.
JUNO: You’re going to break a hip. I can’t wait.
ARROW: I’ll route it through normal delivery. No trace. Give it 48-72.
OZZY: Thanks.
JUNO: If she smiles, you owe me a full recap.
OZZY: You’ll get nothing.
JUNO: You’ll give me everything.
I lock my phone and exhale.
From the kitchen, Salem glances over. “You look like you’re committing crimes.”
I tilt my head. “I am committing crimes.”
Her brows lift. “For once, that’s comforting.”
I smirk. “Good. Because I just ordered you happiness.”
Salem freezes mid-rinse. “You did what?”
I step into the kitchen and lean against the counter, playing it casual even though my pulse is stupidly fast. “I asked Arrow and Juno to send two boards and roller skates.”
Her eyes widen. “Ozzy?—”
“Before you say no,” I cut in, holding up a hand, “I’m not doing a ‘here’s a gift, now owe me your soul’ thing.”
Salem’s mouth twitches. “I wasn’t going to say that.”
“You were,” I accuse.
She crosses her arms, still holding the colander. “Okay, I was.”
I point at her. “I’m doing it because you asked for the creek and your face changed. I’m doing it because you deserve things that aren’t survival. And I’m doing it because you said you’d teach me.”
Salem’s gaze flicks away, like she’s trying not to let the emotion show.
“Also,” I add, because humor helps, “I want to watch you laugh at me when I eat pavement.”
Her eyes snap back. “You’re going to die.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Then you’ll have to keep me alive,” I say lightly.
Salem stares at me. And something quiet passes between us—warm, complicated. Then she mutters, “Fine. But if you break your neck, I’m not doing mouth-to-mouth.”
I grin. “Noted.”