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“Didn’t pinyouas the guy who actually cares about family,” I said, referring to the way he cared for and about his younger sister. “Plus, Vera is more than that. I’ve known her since we were kids.”
“I know.”
“How did you know that?”
“Kinda fucking figured.” He took another puff on his cigarette. “You’ve literally forced Vera into having no social life, threatening any guy who has even shown interest in her since, like, middle school.”
“Was it that fucking obvious?”
João chuckled and stood, opening the screen door to his house. “Listen … if you hurt Vera, Poison will hurt you. And we don’t play, especially not with former rich kids from Redwood. We think they all deserve to burn.”
ChapterSeventy-Four
VERA
The next day after a relativelyquietday at school, I stepped out of Blaise’s car and gazed at the house. I still couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d ruined Mom’s night because I had to ask her about the Harleens.
It was so stupid of me.
“Hey!” João called from across the street.
Blaise and I both looked over at him. João sank his hands into his pockets and glanced over at Blaise briefly. To my surprise, neither of them had said a hateful word to each other today. They were actually being … civil, which was slightly off-putting.
“I need you to watch Ana tomorrow,” João said.
“I have work until six at night, but I can watch her after that.”
“Good. I’ll drop her off at six.”
“But I get off at six—”
Before I could utter another word, João shut his car door and walked to his house, where Ana stood at the door with a huge bowl of what was probably brigadeiro mix.
She dipped her finger into it and stuck it into her mouth. “Hi, Vera!”
“Are you having brigadeiros again, Miss Ana?” I asked playfully.
She smiled widely. “Yeah! Do you wanna make them with me tomorrow?”
“I’d love to!”
She erupted into a fit of giggles before João picked her up and brought her back into the house. She waved at me with her chocolate-covered hand as the door closed behind them, leaving me alone with Blaise.
When I turned back around to him, he was smiling softly at me. The last time Blaise had given me that look, we had been lying down in the middle of the skatepark with his fingers wrapped in my hair, and he had admitted to loving me.
My stomach fluttered at the memory. “What?” I asked. “What is it?”
He shook his head, looked away, and tried to wipe the grin off his face. “Nothing.”
“Come on,” I teased, playfully tapping his shoulder. “Tell me.”
“It’s nothing, Vera.”
“Blaise …”
“You’re just good with kids.”
I stared at him with wide eyes. “What?”
