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“For you?” I said with a smile, tugging on her hand and pulling her up. “Yes.”
So, I dragged Allie downstairs to the dining room and sat next to Mom at the table.
Allie sat across from us and grabbed some French toast, tears still sliding down her cheeks. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Abara.”
“Oh, honey, stop crying,” she said with a smile. “He’s not worth your tears. He’ll figure out what he did wrong and come crawling back to you, just watch.”
“And when he does, I’ll be right there to kick his ass,” I said.
Mom arched a brow at me. “I hope those boys aren’t teaching you this.”
I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck and stuffed my face with French toast. Maybe they were, but one thing was certain. If those boys really had had something to do with this, then I would be the one to kick their asses.
