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Nope. Not for me. I’ve got all I’ll ever need right here. No boy will ever compare to my brothers, so why bother looking for love at all?
A truck exits onto the driveway from the highway. I can’t see it yet from my spot at the end of the dock, but I know just by the sound of the engine that it’s my grandfather’s Chevy. Grams probably already told him all about what happened at school today.
T-minus three minutes until he rips me a new one.
I move my right ankle, briefly touching the toe of my sneaker to the foggy water beneath the dock. It hurts a lot, but a little pain never killed anybody. I do it again just to prove it.
See? Not dead yet.
The Chevy comes into view. I watch over my shoulder as it rolls toward the house, headlights bright on the white gravel in front of it. It stops in its usual spot between the house and the garage and my grandfather quickly hops out. His hard eyes focus on me across the lawn. I exhale with dread.
T-minus sixty seconds.
He reaches into the bed of his truck and pulls out two crutches before walking in my direction. I twist forward to stare out at the water, hiding from the inevitable look of disappointment bounding in my direction. Water slaps against the dock beneath me. Cicadas cry out on all sides. His steps shift from grass to wood and I close my eyes.
Here we go...
He takes a knee on my left and lays the crutches on the dock between us. “Hey, Lily,” he says.
“Hey, Gramps,” I say, avoiding his eyes.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He exhales, amused. I always say that.
“How’s the ankle?” he asks.
“It’s fine.”
“Does it hurt?”
I tap the water again. Still alive. “A little,” I answer.
“Was it worth it?”
I blink. “What?”
He sits down, dangling his feet off the edge like me. “Tell me what happened.”
“Grams didn’t tell you?”
“Oh, she did,” he says. “As did the school when they called me and the kid’s mother when she called me, too. But I want to hear it from you.”
I swallow hard. “I got into a fight.”
He nods. “Why?”
“Because he made me mad.”
“How? I thought you liked the Sullivan boy.”
My cheeks blaze with anger. “Not anymore.”
“Did he call you a name?” he asks.
“No.”
