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Her jaw nearly drops, and she widens her eyes. “You…what?” she asks me, unsure.
“Yeah,” I breathe, running a hand through my short red hair. “Tucker didn’t know about it. I came to talk to him about the case we have to work on together and…”
“And he lost it, right?”
I frown but nod anyway. Did the same thing happen to her?
“Look, he’s got a few things on his mind,” Yeleen starts.
She seems to be searching for words, probably because she doesn’t want to give away Tucker’s secret, which she seems to know. I do too, but I don’t tell her that.
“You should ask him next time,” she says gently. “Tucker is…special, and the place where he lives…anyway, nobody would like to have people show up unexpectedly, right?” she tries with a little laugh to lighten the mood.
Yeah, I didn’t like it when Tucker came to my house by surprise either.
I swear I said those words only in my head, but seeing Yeleen’s expression? I think I spoke out loud. Shit. “It was you who gave him my address, right? How did you get it?”
She nods with an innocent look on her face. “I might know some people who have access to the students’ files.”
I’m about to ask her more questions, but Trey appears a few feet away. He waves at me, but then his focus goes to Yeleen.
“I promise I won’t do it again. Look,” Yeleen finishes, “if you hear from Tucker, let me know.”
“If he’s going to give news to someone, it’s more likely to be you, right? I think he’s just trying to ignore me.” After all, they are friends. We’re…nothing.
Yeleen smiles softly and looks at me conspiratorially. “Oh believe me, he won’t stay away from you for long.” Then she walks away, joining her boyfriend a few feet away.
Not staying away from me for long? My ass, I’m sure he has a picture of my head with a huge red cross on it.
***
“You can’t do that, Agnes, you have to be good with our aunt,” I explain to my sister as I push open the door to the little café on the east side of campus.
“I didn’t mean to,” she mumbles on the phone.
I quickly order a cappuccino, then sit down at a small table in the back to avoid being disturbed. “Oh…you didn’t do it on purpose, did you?” I repeat, holding back a laugh. “You didn’t pour the whole bottle of nail polish in her stuff on purpose?”
“Nope, it fell out by itself,” my little sister justifies herself in an innocent voice.
“You have to be good,” I continue as my drink arrives.
“Why can’t I come and live with you?”
And, as always, I dodge her question. Because even if she knows that the judge gave her custody to our aunt, she doesn’t know that it’s because he found me too financially and emotionally unstable.
“You’re already coming for the vacations, honey,” I remind her.
“But…”
At her sad tone, my chest tightens. “Agnes,” I begin, “I want you to continue your school years, at least for a while, with people you know.”
When my situation gets better, I’ll come back to Portland. But for now, Agnes needs stability. And as much as it pains me to admit it, living with my aunt in a place she knows and with people she knows is the best solution. Of course, I miss her every day. Part of me says I should have stayed in Portland with her. That I would have saved money there, hoping to get my little sister back one day. But I wouldn’t have made it, emotionally. I tried for eight months, and it was a huge failure. I needed this fresh start in an unfamiliar city before I lost myself for good.
“Well, okay,” she grumbles. “And the boy I talked to on the phone the other day, is he your boyfriend?”
I let out a little sarcastic laugh. “No, he’s not my—”
My words are lost as a tanned, muscular hand rests on the back of the chair in front of me.
