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“Where’s the van?”

“In the shop for a few weeks. It needed some work,” she says.

“And the jalopy?” I ask.

“I’m renting it to Sophia.” She points across the parking lot. The farm truck sits under the canopy of a monkeypod tree. A wild chicken stands on top of the cab, pecking around.

“Aunty,” I say in a stern voice.

“I’m helping a friend.” Her voice pitches like she’s innocent.

She opens the passenger-side door and climbs inside. In the driver’s seat, Jaz kicks on the engine. The headlights pop on, illuminating the tenth hole of the hotel’s golf course.

As Tina buckles her seat belt, my mind tallies where this lands me in my ongoing fight.

If Sophia has the jalopy, the deal to exchange her bungalow for my Jeep means nothing now. This is a terrible development, but I know better than to scold Tina. She’ll have me in a headlock faster than I can say aloha, and Jaz will gladly assist in my takedown.

“Maybe I’m helping you too.” Tina pops her brows playfully.

We’ve played this game many times. She can’t help but get involved.

She calls it hopena. In English, it means destiny, but I call it trouble.

“Highly unlikely,” I say.

After she’s settled, I shut the door.

She rolls down the window. “Dinner at the farm tomorrow night, yeah?”

There’s a bit of a nefarious twinkle in her eye. She’s up to something, though I can’t figure out what it might be.

“Maybe,” I say to keep her on edge.

On any other day, I would never say no to Tina’s invite. I’d be crazy to. I can already smell the delicious food. The coconut cookies. My stomach grumbles.

“Eh, bring Sophia,” she hollers as the truck backs out of the parking space.

“And there it is,” I mumble under my breath.

Cupid ain’t got nothing on Tina. She wants a love match. She’s been eager for me to meet someone since the Amber fiasco. Why she’s zeroed in on Sophia, I’m unsure. You never know why Tina fixates on certain things. In this case, it’s an impossible certain thing.

I admit that tasting Sophia’s pouty lips would be nice, though I’d be safer with a poisonous snake.

Jaz honks the horn twice as they drive away. Headlight beams slice past the lush banyan trees. I dig my hands in my pockets and watch until their red taillights fade.

Nearby, a twig snaps in the trees, and I turn to the noise. Wings flutter. Angry clucks are exchanged. Two brawling chickens stand on top of Tina’s jalopy.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary. The birds are everywhere, but seeing them go at it gives me a genius idea. It strikes as fast as the winning bird. He stands victoriously on top of the truck, alone. He defended his kingdom.

And I will too.

I sort out the details building in my mind. By the time I’m done, I will get the house, or at least annoy my beautiful enemy until she gives in.

I fold my arms, roll back on my heels, and release a nefarious chuckle. I almost feel bad for her.

Almost.

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