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Lo motions to me with the file. “Who’s the most influential of your family?”
I think about it for a second. “Nowadays, I dunno. I’m not really on the in.”
“Before? When you were living with them.”
“Before…” I blink, thinking. “My dad, probably, and his cousin Ollie.” I squint, trying to remember. “I think that was a nickname. He might’ve been Oliver.”
Lo makes a note on his phone. “Why them?”
“They always knew the most people. They had the hookups. Connections. It’s not like they’re dealing and running some elaborate drug ring. They’re cooking for themselves, and when they don’t have enough money to keep using, that’s when they turn to petty crimes.”
“Have you spoken to your dad—?”
“No,” I say fast. “And he hasn’t been blowing up my phone.”
“But if you were to call him, he’d answer?”
“Of course he would,” I say almost under my breath, and my pulse is racing. I try to fixate on another paper, but I can barely read the words.
“Did you ever try meth?” Lo asks with less bite than I’m used to from him.
I go still, staring at the paper.
“Yeah,” I say the one word. Hoping to leave it at that.
Lo digs something else out of his briefcase, the rustling lifting my gaze. He slides two pictures across the coffee table. Out in front of me. “Which one looks cooler?”
I’m staring at little onesies. One with skulls and crossbones and the other with a heart on fire.
I frown. “You’re asking me what’s cool?”
He blows out an annoyed breath. “I have this teenage son who thinks you’re the coolest guy on the planet right now, so yeah, what’s cooler?”
“Skulls and crossbones. Classic shit.”
“Garrison said the same thing,” I hear him mutter under his breath. He takes the papers from me. “We’re doing a Hale Co. and Abbey Games crossover line. Baby onesies for the grunge gamers.”
Sometimes I forget about Hale Co. when he owns Halway Comics. “Can’t believe you have two companies, man.”
“I’m not really surprised you have none.”
I smirk. “I set that one up for you.” I’m taking full credit.
He looks at me, a question swirling around his eyes, and it can’t be about our banter. His brows cinch more and more until he just asks it. “How old were you?”
“When what?”
“When you first tried meth.” His face contorts. “You said you left Philly when you were seventeen, so how old were you?”
I scratch the back of my head, then rest my forearms on my thighs, hand cupped so I don’t reach for my cigarettes. “Fourteen.”
His brows jump, but thankfully, he doesn’t press. Instead, he picks up the onesie photos.
I ask him, “Which you like better: Hale Co. or Halway Comics? If you could only choose one company?”
“I can’t choose,” he says like he’s been asked that question a million times. He stuffs the papers back in his briefcase. “It’s my legacy and my passion. I can’t throw either away.”
Legacy seems like it’d be easier to leave. Then again, I think about trying to leave my tarnished, beat-up family legacy. How much they’re pulling me back. Maybe it’s not so simple.
I swallow hard and reach for my Wawa coffee. Right then, my phone rings. I see that it’s Xander. I flash the screen to Xander’s dad.
He nods. “Take it.”
“Mae govannen,” I say hello in Sindarin Elvish. It took me a month to get the dialect right. But Xander says I killed it.
Lo pretends to read something, but I can tell he’s trying to hide a smile. Yeah, man, I learned Elvish for your son. Thatcher and Banks might have also done that, but I’m still collecting all the points I can.
Xander replies, “Hey, I’m having kind of a shit night. Do you mind um…?”
“If you want, I can spend the night.” If he wants me to go 24/7 on the clock, I’ll clock in and just stand outside his door. I’m more concerned, if something happened.
“Yeahyeah,” he says quickly but with little to no inflection in his voice. “That’d be good. Yeah. And if my parents ask, can you tell them I’m fine? Really, it’s nothing. It’s just shitty school stuff.”
“Yeah, man.” I feel Lo’s eyes on me, worry in them. Keeping more secrets from Xander’s dad is going to bump my name to the top of his shit list. “Anything you want to tell me?”
“Delilah is saying I slept with her after Homecoming. And it’s all over the internet. It’s just messed up. Fucking Celebrity Crush is going to post about this—and it’s not true.”
“This’ll all blow over,” I tell him, but I’m frowning, and Lo is motioning for the phone. I don’t pass it yet. “I’m on my way. You want to talk to your dad before I leave?”
“He’s with you?”
“Yeah.”
“…I’ll call him.” His voice cracks.
I hang up, and Lo sends me the nastiest death glare. Like I threw a dodgeball at him and blocked him from reaching his son on purpose. Before I can explain that Xander is about to call him, his phone rings.
