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They got to the wall and Tate wanted to laugh. He’d hoped kids would have gotten more creative over the years.
“You do this?” Tate asked the kid, who didn’t share many similar features to Mia other than the striking turquoise eye color. The kid was only a few inches shorter than Tate’s six-foot-three and built like a brick house.
“No, I didn’t,” he said calmly.
Tate nodded and glanced around for paraphernalia. When a gust of winter air blew around them, he couldn’t help but notice the way it affected Mia. The tip of her nose was pink and her creamy skin broke out in goose bumps. He wished he had a coat to offer her. For some reason the fact that she may have a less than stellar perception of him hadn’t sat well over the last several days. He really wasn’t a bad guy, and for some reason it mattered to him how she saw him. It shouldn’t…but it did.
Below the painted “object” was Kyle’s name.
“Seems like a bad idea to put your name on something that will obviously get you in trouble,” Tate said.
“See!” Mia pointed at him and then nodded at the principal. She even gifted him with a smile and the thing made Tate’s lungs hurt a little. He thought she was sexy glaring his way, but smiling? Incredible. “That’s just what I said.”
For a brief moment, Mia and Tate were on the same team.
Very brief.
Because a flash of red caught Tate’s eye. He walked to the car parked next to the wall and there in the front seat was a red spray paint can. He didn’t have to ask to know whose car it was. He’d recognize that sunroof anywhere.
“This is your car,” Tate stated.
Kyle nodded.
“You know it is,” Mia said. “Kyle and I share it.”
When Kyle walked over and saw what Tate was looking at, the kid looked like he was going to lose his lunch.
“I didn’t…that’s not mine,” Kyle said quickly.
“Vandals get automatic suspension and kicked off the team,” the principal said. “I don’t want to have to do that but it’s policy.”
Kyle’s eyes went wide. “No! I didn’t do it.”
“You play football?” Tate asked.
He nodded.
Tate knew what a big deal that was. He may have been second string, but this kid, based by the rumors around town and sheer size of him, seemed to be beyond exceptional.
“I can’t get kicked off the team,” Kyle said. “There’re scouts coming for playoffs.”
“This can’t really be felony material,” Mia said.
Tate checked the edge of the passenger window. “We call it malicious mischief but technically it’s a class B felony.”
He ran his finger along a small scratch by the window edge. The nick looked like it had come from a jimmy to unlock. But it wasn’t solid proof considering the car had its fair share of scrapes everywhere.
“He’s telling the truth,” Mia said, thrusting herself between Tate and Kyle as if some kind of irate mama bear. While her eyes were lit with fury, they were also wild with concern.
“Deputy,” she said lowly. “I need you to just …” she glanced over her shoulder at the paint can. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she said as if harnessing her inner Jedi Warrior.
Any minute, he thought, she just may wave her hand in front of his face and tell him this was all just a dream.
He scoffed.
“While I appreciate you informing me,” once again, “what I need, I can tell you right now that I’m looking at reality.” He glanced at the paint can, then met her eyes. “And it doesn’t look good.”
If he didn’t think Miss Blake could get a sterner look, he was mistaken because her delicate brow furrowed even farther.
