“Uh oh.”

“Yeah, uh oh.”

Tommy leans back in his chair and looks around the room. “I didn’t dinosaur stomp on my iPad. I promise.” He takes a mouthful of cereal, guilt written all over his face. He totally dinosaur stomped on his iPad.

I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “You can’t call people butt sniffers, bud. It’s not nice.”

He spits out his cereal with his laugh. “But he is a butt sniffer!”

I wipe the milk off the counter with a cloth. “It’s not funny.”

“Butt sniffer. Butt sniffer. Butt sniffer.”

“I have to get going. Be good to your aunt, okay?”

“Okay, butt sniffer in your butt last time!”

*     *     *

Becca answers the door to Chazarae’s house, a shy smile on her beautiful face. “You left your phone in my bed,” I tell her, holding it behind my back.

She throws her hand out between us, palm up.

I rock on my heels. “Yeah. No. I think I’m going to keep it.”

Becca bites down on her lip, her emerald eyes penetrating mine. She steps forward, closing the door with one hand, the other flattening on my stomach. “Please?” she mouths.

I shake my head and lean forward, my mouth to her ear. “You’re going to have to work for it.” I’m trying to flirt, though I’m almost positive I’m failing because both her hands are on my chest now, and all of a sudden I can’t think. I can’t see. I can’t even breathe. I try to swallow but my throat’s too dry, even though I’m pretty sure there’s puke in there, and now my eyes are starting to water and there’s some fucked-up acid shit in my nose and the air is thick and my vision blurs and dammit, she pouts.

“Don’t pout,” I breathe out.

She does it again. This time, batting her eyelids. Becca rises to her toes and presses her lips to mine. Just once. But enough for air to fill my lungs and for my vision to return to normal. I cave and hand her the phone just as her door opens and her dad appears. She steps back, her arms falling to her side. “You ready, Becca?” her dad asks.

“Good morning, sir.” I offer him my hand for a shake. “I need to apologize for my son this morning. He got a little rattled when he heard the banging on the door.”

He looks down at my hand, ignores it, and then motions toward Chaz’s car. “Let’s go.”

*     *     *

I get in my car, my thoughts running in circles as I drive the familiar streets to the hospital. I try to think back to all the encounters I’ve had with Becca’s dad, every word I’ve spoken, and I try to justify why he’s acting the way he is toward me. I understand, to a degree, but he wasn’t this bad when he was here for Chaz’s birthday and I’ve had zero contact with him since. I push aside the concern—for now, but not forever—and instead, I focus on Chaz.

Chaz is awake when I enter the room, her nose scrunched in disgust as she prods her breakfast with her fork. She forces a smile when she looks at me, “Oh, Joshua, thank the Lord you’re here. Go get me a chocolate bar, will you?”

With a sigh, I take the seat next to her bed. “Chocolate for breakfast, Ma’am? Who are you? Tommy?”

She laughs quietly—the exact reaction I was hoping for.

“How are you feeling?”

After pushing away the tray, she says, “I’m good. I just want to get out of here.”

“I know. But a specialist is coming in soon, so hopefully we can find out more and get you back home as soon as possible.”

Her smile reaches her eyes—eyes dark and aged and wrinkled, just like the rest of her. Her skin’s dry, cracked from the hours upon hours she spends out in her garden doing the work I used to do before my skating took priority. Heaviness builds in my chest and I look down at my lap.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing.”

She shifts in her spot, moving the pillows to get more comfortable. “You know better than to lie to me, Joshua.”

“I just wish I’d spent more time with you. That’s all.”

“Oh, hush!” She crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed at me. “I’m not dead. Not even dying. Now stop talking as if I am. It may be unfortunate for you, but I have plenty of years left. Now, let’s talk about that girlfriend of yours. Where is she?”

I rub the three days of growth on my jaw with my knuckles and choose my words carefully, knowing it’s important not to push her. “You know you’ve met Becca before…”