My only other experience of living somewhere for longer than a year was Portland, Oregon, or just outside of it. That’s where I went to law school and my internship turned into a career.
“Hey,” a voice calls out, and I turn my head to look around.
On the porch of the bed & breakfast sits Max.
“Hey,” I say, giving him a small smile. I slow my speed but don’t stop. “It looks like you found a place to stay last night. How was it?”
He smiles, and while I really shouldn’t be noticing, it’s a very nice smile. One that pulls you in, like he has a secret toshare. There’s a hint of a dimple, which has always been a weakness. My ex-boyfriend, Curt, could flash one of his dimpled smiles to get out of any disagreement.
I slam down any emotion swelling and focus on the present. Not every guy is a sniveling traitor.
“It was really good.” He walks down the stairs toward me. “Are you heading somewhere?”
I sigh. “Yeah, Lila got called to the principal’s office, so I’ve either got to get bail money ready or brush up on my debate skills.”
Max gives me a small smile. “Lila is feisty. Good luck.” He turns into the lane heading to the parking lot behind the B&B.
I wave and continue walking, taking a right at the next street and then walk a block over to the junior high. I could’ve driven here, but it’s close enough, and I don’t mind making Lila sweat a bit.
I may be the favorite aunt, but I’m also practically her parent at this point, and I don’t want her to be a bratty teen.
The secretary doesn’t even look up before she says, “They’re in Mr. Martin’s office.”
I walk past the desk and into the principal’s office, surprised to see a boy sitting in the corner with an ice pack over his eye. His mother is hovering over him, acting as if each of his moans is grounds for a hospital run.
“What happened here?” I ask, maybe a little too loudly.
It’s only then that I see Lila in a chair on the other side of the room, with Mr. Martin behind his desk, looking like an old miser.
“Please have a seat, Ms. Parker. We have a few things to discuss,” he says, pointing to an empty chair next to Lila.
I sit and wait, irritated by the tension filling the air.
“How dare you let your child hit mine. What are you teaching her?” the mom screeches, and as fired up as I want tobe right now, I know taking offense will only make things worse.
Instead of waiting for the principal to guide this conversation, I turn to Lila. She’s usually honest with me, and I hope she will be now. Raising an eyebrow, I say, “Care to share what this meeting is about? They called your mom, and she asked me to come check on you.”
Lila’s eyes narrow slightly, and I wonder what I’ve said to make her do that, or if it was something from earlier with this boy.
“Joey has been teasing me for weeks about being a giraffe or about being ugly,” she says, her nostrils flaring. Then her eyes narrow, and she says just above a whisper, “He also says my dad died so he wouldn’t have to see what a disappointment I am.”
My heart rate ticks up, and I have to clench my fists in my lap to keep from reacting.
“Did that happen again today?” I ask slowly.
Lila bent her head, her expression close to steel, and I can understand her emotions. I felt the same after being let go from a job I loved because of some twisted truths I couldn’t prove.
“He told everyone I was a liar when I told my friend about helping Max last night.”
Why would she be talking about Max? “What exactly did you tell your friend?”
“That we didn’t get killed or kidnapped by picking up a stranger on the highway.”
I temper my smile, hoping to keep my amusement to a minimum since the tension in this room is already thick enough to slice like a cake.
So far, I’m not surprised about this. “And?”
“And he said I would never fit in because I don’t have a mom or a dad. So I punched him in the eye.”
