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The music coming from her house came to an abrupt halt, followed by a raised angry voice.
Silently, Isabel swore.
“I think he’s a d-bag,” Brooklyn said philosophically.
Swallowing her frustrated laughter, Isabel gave Brooklyn a stern look. “We’ve talked about that language.”
“I’m not saying it around teachers, strangers or Mariah!” Brooklyn gave her a defensive look as Isabel nudged her onto her feet. “And heisa d-bag!”
Aaron’s angry shout cut off whatever response Isabel had been about to make. “Later,” she told the girl. Taking off at a jog, she headed for the garage, arriving just as Booker backed out, an amazed look on his handsome young face.
“Damn, he fast,” the kid muttered under his breath. “I mean ...fast... ”
Isabel swung into her garage just as Travis gave Jacob a warning look, his hand on the kid’s shoulder “Didn’t I tell you to keep your hands to yourself?”
“Get your fucking paws off me! This is child abuse!” Jacob’s lips peeled back from his teeth.
“Sure, kid. I’ll let go as soon as you calm down.” Turning his attention to the other kid, Travis asked, “You going to keep your cool, Aaron?”
“As long as that punk doesn’t touch me or my stuff again.” Aaron jerked his head in a nod and Travis released the skinnier kid, turning his focus back on Jacob.
“You ready to show some sense?”
Before Jacob could answer, Isabel stepped into the garage. “What on earth is going on?”
Neither boy spoke.
Travis eyed the one he still had a grip on. “What’s the matter? You had plenty to say a minute ago.”
Jacob curled his lip in a sneer and jerked against Travis’s hold. “Let me go, dumbass.”
“Watch how you address adults,” Isabel said.
Jacob’s cheeks went a blistering red but he jerked his shoulders up. “The fucker put his hands on me.”
“And what inspired him to do such a thing?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and pinning him with a flat look. She’d address the language after the bigger problems were dealt with. One thing she’d learned after a couple of years of doing this was to pick her battles.
“Maybe he’s a prick,” Jacob suggested.
“Don’t you say that about Mr. Travis!” Brooklyn said, fury in her voice. Then she looked up at Isabel. “What’s a prick?”
“A bad word for a jerk,” she said with a quick look at the child. She smoothed her hand over Brooklyn’s hair. “Let me handle this.”
“But we’re supposed to stand up for our friends.” Brooklyn puts her hands on her hips and gave Jacob a defiant look.
“In general, that’s a good rule of thumb,” Isabel allowed. “But I think Travis is pretty good at standing up for himself ... and I’m also here.”
Brooklyn seemed to consider that and then she smiled sweetly, first at Isabel, then at Jacob. “Okay, Ms. Bella. You can stand up for Mr. Travis. You’re meaner than me anyway.”
“Mean? You’re just a runty little girl,” Jacob said with a snort.
Isabel winced inwardly. That boy was going to regret that.
Brooklyn’s heart-shaped face remained sweet, that deceptively innocent smile in place. “Ms. Bella is a girl,” she said with a shrug. “And you got put with her because nobodyelsewould take you. Girls are tough.”
Isabel grimaced. She had no idea where Brooklyn had picked that up.
Jacob’s mouth went tight and Brooklyn smiled sunnily at him before skipping past him, right on into the house. “I’m gonna make some Kool-Aid, okay, Ms. Bella?”
