“Minimum wage?”
I join the line of cars waiting to pull into Lafayette High’s horseshoe drive. “You think your knowledge and experience deserve more than that?” I don’t have to look at him to know his mouth is hanging open, but I glance over in time to see it close. He narrows his glare at me, and now he’s the one who looks just like Abuela.
“Does everyone you hire start at minimum wage?”
I shrug. “Everyone with zero experience and zero training.”
“Hmmph.” His lips press together and he mutters, “You’d think you’d give your own brother a break.”
He’s not really upset—at least, I don’t think so. And if he is, he needs to get over it. “Iamgiving you a break, ” I say, nudging the truck into the drive and braking as cars crawl through the drop-off line. “By paying you what you’re worth, I’m making sure the business with your name on it stays profitable.”
He doesn’t have to like this, but I’m glad when I see the corner of his mouth turn up just a little. “So you’re saying keeping me poor is making me rich?”
My chuckle is low but automatic. “Appreciate the paradox.”
Alex sniffs a laugh. Then he looks at me and shakes his head. “You’re not fooling me.”
“I’m not trying to fool you.”
Shooting me his best wise-ass face, my brother shakes his head. “You’re trying to fool everyone, but you don’t fool me.”
He looks so smug, I have to reach across the seats and mess with his hair.
“Hey!” His skinny arms shoot out to defend against my attack.
Wait a minute. They used to be skinny. They look bigger, more solid. When did that happen?
“Serves you right,” I say as he rakes his fingers through his hair, restoring the order of his dark waves.
“Yeah, that’s what I get for speaking the truth. I see through you.” His voice holds a teasing note, but something in the way he averts his eyes has me frowning.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Alex shakes his head. “Nah. Forget I said anything.” We’re at the front of the line, and it’s his turn to get out. His hand is already on the door, but I grab one of the straps of his backpack.
“Hermano,what do you mean?”
He opens the door and leans out, tugging against the backpack. “I gotta go, Luc.”
I firm my grip. I’m wearing a grin, but I have no intention of letting go. “Tell me.”
He climbs out of the truck and the backpack forms a link between us, neither one of us letting go. The car behind me honks.
“C’mon, Luc.” His eyes widen with exasperation.
I hold his gaze with my own determined one. “I’ll let go when you talk.”
The car behind us honks again. An on-duty teacher motions for me to pull forward. I ignore her.
“Luuuuuc.”He drags my name out until it’s at least three syllables. “Forget I said anything.”
“Can’t. Won’t.”
He rolls his eyes. “Ugh. Fine.” He throws up his free hand in defeat and then gestures at me with it. “This. Your big brother routine. All work and no play.”
I frown. He tugs at the backpack, but I hold on. “Work is important.” It has to be. I’m running the family business now.
“Yeah, but it’s not everything,” he says, all smugness. “And the way you were looking at thatbonitaat the game last night tells me you know it too.” Alex jerks hard on the backpack, and the strap pops from my grip.
