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You really don’t understand how someone can be torn in their loyalties? I asked myself.
I tried to forget Tyler’s face as I’d left him in that cell, walking away with my father. It must have killed him.
“Juliette?” Miguel whispered from behind me. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, turning with a smile for the boy. “What are you doing up?”
Miguel wrapped the bottom of his T-shirt around his arm, a nervous habit of his I’d noticed. “I want to go to work for Tyler after school.”
“Has he talked to you?” I asked, far too eagerly.
“No, but I was supposed to start last Monday and…well, I didn’t.”
“Right.” I licked my lips. “You want to go out to the build site tomorrow?”
He nodded. “I sort of promised, you know?”
I wanted to hug him, to pull the boy to me and tell him how proud I was of him. Of how, from the moment I’d met him, defiant and pissed, being brought into the station in handcuffs from that fight with his father in the grocery store, I’d felt that he would change my life.
And that I’d hoped I could change his.
“Okay then,” I said, knowing it was too soon, that my relationship with Miguel was fragile and too much pressure might destroy it somehow. “We’ll go see Tyler tomorrow.”
“She’s sleeping so much,” Miguel said the next day after school as we bounced our way down the gravel road toward the build site.
I glanced in the rearview mirror at Louisa, slouched and snoring in the backseat.
“Is that normal?” Miguel asked.
I smiled, my heart twisting in my chest. “I imagine she’s got a lot of catching up to do,” I said. “I doubt she’s slept well in a long time. It’s kind of like you and eating.” I glanced sideways at the boy, who was systematically eating me out of house and home. I needed to keep up the chatter. The distraction. Because I was driving out to see Tyler. To talk to him.
It felt as though my body might explode from my seething, battling emotions. From my worry that the second I saw him I’d collapse into tears, begging him to tell me why he’d lied. Begging him to take me back.
But it would be a mistake. I knew that. He hadn’t changed; he might not be able to. Tyler O’Neill might just be the best bad boy out there. A heart full of good intentions, but a nature more prone to destruction.
I hated to think it. Didn’t want to believe it. But it had been proven time and time again.
“Juliette?” Miguel asked. “When do we go back to my dad?”
“What? Why? Do you want to go back? Do you not like it at my house?”
“No,” Miguel assured me quickly. “We love it there, but I figure we need to get ready for going back.”
I pulled over to the side of the road, unaware that Miguel was so misinformed about his circumstances. “Your dad is in jail,” I told him. “Until the trial. And after that, I imagine the court will rule to take you two away from him.”
“So, what happens when I’m eighteen?” he asked.
“You can appeal to be made guardian of your sister or…” I stopped. I hadn’t really thought about this, and putting words to these very thin and delicate ideas seemed foolish. Too early.
“What?”
“Well, after the trial you’ll be a ward of the state, and as long as you like it there, and I like you there, and we keep passing the home inspections, you can stay at my house.”
“That’s good.” Miguel seemed to be reading my hesitation the wrong way. “Isn’t it?”
“It is, Miguel. It’s really good. I’m so happy you guys are in my house. But what are you going to do when you’re eighteen?”
“I’ll get a job or something, I guess. An apartment for me and Louisa?”
“What about college or learning some kind of trade? You can’t do that and take care of your sister at the same time. And what if one of you gets sick? You should have help, Miguel. Eighteen might seem like a grown-up, but you’re still a kid. And you should get to have the chance to be a kid.”
Miguel shook his head at me, his face blank. “I’m not following, Chief.”
“I could adopt you,” I blurted, and squeezed my eyes shut. “I could adopt you both.”
The quiet in the car was long and deep and finally I looked over at him. He stared at me, mouth hanging open, eyes wide.
“You kidding?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“You saying this ’cause you feel bad for me? You think I can’t take care of Louisa?”
He was so defensive, ready to fight the world for his sister, and I just couldn’t admire the kid more. “I think you can take care of you sister just fine. I just want someone…” I paused. “I want to take care of you, Miguel.”
