Bibi sighed. “I can’t argue. Here I am, building you a better workspace. What do they call that? An enabler. I’ve become your enabler.”
I laughed and took our plates to the sink. “Which reminds me, don’t let the handyman come in the house until I get home.”
“Nonsense. I’ll be fine. Which remindsme, Detective Harris came by yesterday.”
“Again?” I waggled my eyebrows. “Did he bring a guitar and sing you love songs too?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she shot back with a sly smile.
I grinned. My great-grandmother knew everyone in the city, and they all loved her.
Because she practices what she preaches. Her heart is open.
Mine was too, I argued as I rinsed the dishes and put them in the washer. I loved Bibi. I loved Violet. I’d lay down my life for either of them. What more did I need?
“I want you to be careful out there, Shiloh,” Bibi said as I dried my hands and packed up my school bag, her tone suddenly grave. “Detective Harris told me one of the officers at his precinct had to be disciplined again. Mitch Dowd. I believe his son is in your grade.”
“Frankie,” I said. “He’s a little prick.”
“His father’s a big prick. He’s got something of a bad temper, I hear. A short fuse and an excess of pride. The worst combination.”
“Sounds like a real winner.”
“Harris used the word ‘psychotic.’”
“Christ. And he’s still on the job?”
“Likely not for much longer. But, Shiloh, if Dowd pulls you over…”
“I know what to do, no matter who pulls me over.” I pecked her cheek. “I gotta run. You’ll be okay?”
“Of course.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
“I will. And, Shiloh?” she called when I was at the kitchen door that led to the garage. “I might not agree with your boundaries, but I respect them.”
I smiled, warmth filling my chest. “I love you, Bibi,” I said, the words coming easily. Without hesitation.
There is nothing wrong with my heart, I thought in the garage, climbing into the boat of a Buick.It’s open for exactly the right people.
***
At school, I kept my earbuds in between classes. “Hunger” by Florence + The Machine filled my head while the rest of the school populace bustled around me, talking and laughing, full of new school year energy that’d wear off in a week.
I caught sight of Miller Stratton trudging across the quad alone, head down, shoulders hunched. He met my eye and gave me a wave. I waved in return. The boy looked like he carried the weight of the world on his back. I wished Violet would help him carry the burden a little. But then, who was I to talk? I carried my own shit and was just fine.
But when Violet joined me in history—our last class of the day—her dark-blue eyes were heavy and hadMiller Strattonwritten all over them. She was miserable and beautiful at the same time.
This is why I don’t get involved with boys.
“Hey,” I said. “You okay?”
She put on her Violet McNamara Everything’s Fine trademark smile. “Sure. You look pretty, Shi. As usual. That’s stunning.” She reached over and touched the turquoise-and-silver ring on my index finger. “A Barrera original, I presume?”
“Free advertising.”
“You’re a genius.”