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“Being thanked for saving a man’s life?!”
I slam my locker door and shake my head. “Nope.”
“Come on, your shift doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Just a quick conversation,” Amina says with the eagerness of a little girl who thinks unicorns exist.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Not happening.” I’m not going to tell her that a conversation like that is going to last way more than fifteen minutes.
“He’s famous, Isabella.”
“Is he?” I ask.
“Don’t be an ass. You know him. Black Flame. The band.”
I pretend to be nonplussed.
Amina gapes at me. “You know them.”
I shake my head.
“Come on! ‘Hold My Hand’? ‘Freak and Fire’? ‘Jumper Judy’?”
I know all of those songs. “Hm. No.”
“Shut up. You at least know ‘Yelling From the Bottom of a Hole’.”
I laugh. Because I laugh every time I hear the name of that song.
“It goes like –“ Amina hums the song and yes, I recognize it, but I continue to play dumb. “They’re literally huge. Huge.”
“Not big enough for me to know them.”
“Do you live under a rock?!”
I cackle. “I just don’t care.”
Amina throws up her hands. “Well, fine. You don’t care about Black Flame, my favorite band.”
On the contrary, of course I do. I was a fan before she knew they existed. I’ve been quiet about it though. There’s no casual way to be a fan of the band led by the father of your child.
The child he doesn’t know about.
“Then, let me put it this way,” Amina says. “You should go let him thank you because you deserve it.”
My heart tightens in my chest.
“I know you’ve been doing this longer than me, but you know, it’s a big deal to save someone’s life.”
I open my mouth to refuse, but Amina waves a hand in my face. “I’m not going to take your humble bullshit routine.”
All I can do is laugh at that.
And…
Maybe she’s right. I deserve a thank you.
Especially from a man I loved for a month of my life and whose love has continued on even though he doesn’t know it.
A thank you is the least I deserve.
