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“Oh, baby girl.”
I squeeze her hand. “We’ll be okay, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Mom gets up and drops a kiss on top of my head. “Have you eaten yet? How about we splurge on a pizza?”
“Sounds perfect.”
As Mom calls for delivery, I gather my homework from the coffee table and set it with plates. While she’s ordering, I grab my phone and tap out another text to Devlin to find out what’s up with our deal. If Mom can’t get a job, then I need him now more than ever. As much as needing him makes my blood boil, he’s the easiest way I can make money right now.
Blair: Don’t know why you’re ignoring me. Are we done?
I can’t believe I’m actually upset about Devlin’s cold shoulder. Not that long ago, it would’ve been a dream come true to stop existing on his radar. Now I want to jump up and down in front of him in the SLHS cheerleader outfit again to get his attention.
My cheeks heat.
I absolutely do not picture what else I might get from him by wearing it.
Definitely not.
Not at all.
Nope.
My phone buzzes, sending my heart free falling into my gut. It’s not Devlin. He’s still ignoring me.
Switching to Instagram, I open the direct message from Gemma. I haven’t told her about getting tangled up with her boyfriend’s evil cousin.
@brightgem: Dyyyying!
@brightgem: [sent @pugsly_daily’s story]
The Instagram story is hilarious and lifts the weight from my shoulders for a few moments of pure pug-induced happiness. The pug in the video is our favorite pudgy Instafamous dog account sinking into a beanbag, barely visible until he explodes from the beanbag with an amusing flail.
@disblair: omg [heart eyes emoji] sweet lumpy prince!
I close out of the app and prod the side of my phone to feel the squish of my fingertips. Willing a message from Devlin to come doesn’t work.
Maybe I should hope for a shooting star instead, like Mom used to tell me.
But that won’t work either.
I should know, after all the wishes I wasted hoping Dad would come back and take care of us.
* * *
Mom and I are only on our second slices of pizza when there’s a knock on the door. We pause our chewing, glancing at each other.
“I hope that’s not Alexei wanting to collect the rent.” Mom wipes pizza sauce from her mouth and goes to get up.
“I’ll get it.”
I spring up before she can. She deserves to rest.
As I swing open the aluminum door, I’ve got what I’ll say to Alexei the landlord ready to go. But instead of Alexei’s thinning bleach-tipped hair, gray whiskers, and beer gut, someone I never thought I’d see here waits at the bottom of the steps.
Devlin.
He stands at the edge of the pool of light spilling out onto the weeds and gravel in front of our trailer, hands tucked in his pockets. It’s a mild night, the heat of the day not yet dipping into the cooler temperatures.
