Page 19 of The Delivery

But I don’t have to worry about what to do next because my asshole brother stands and gestures frantically to him.

“Get down!” I say, yanking on his arm and trying to pull him into his seat.

Ohmygodohmygodohmyf-u-c-k-inggod! This may very well indeed be my worst moment.

Mozey strides over toward Lexi, looking confused but then breaks into a smile when he sees me. He waves, and I salute him, feeling suddenly nauseous.

“Finch! I thought that was you. Shit, I’m so glad I found you! I thought I’d have to do a lot more looking than this. I didn’t expect you to pick me up at the station. Especially without knowing I was coming!”

He’s confident and flippant. How else would I expect him to be? He’s a chronic rule breaker—that happens to be how I know him. Delinquent to social worker. We are not friends.

I sip more coffee and wipe the sticky Danish from my lips while I nod at him like I’m crazy.

“How do you know each other?” Lexi asks, his head rotating back and forth between us.

“Work,” I say, looking at Mozey. “This is my brother, Lex.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mozey says, moving his backpack to the other shoulder while he pumps Lexi’s hand.

Lexi is dumbfounded, and I’m speechless. Not to mention I also feel like I might pee my pants from excitement.

“What are you doing in Michigan?” I ask him, suspicious of his presence. Like he’s following me because he’s a secret agent or a government spy sent to evaluate me and my program. We’ve already touched on the undercover thing, and he swore that he wasn’t. But what spy says he’s a spy? Aren’t they supposed to deny it forever?

Maybe he’s supernatural, he’s some kind of an alien wearing human skin, and when he kissed me, he implanted a homing device. I pass him my coffee, with my head cocked, thoroughly examining him. He takes it from me, looking confused.

“Drink it!” I say.

And he takes a tentative sip while Lexi and I stare at him. I don’t know what I’m expecting to accomplish with this. Maybe he’ll melt away at the contact of the hot liquid or change color or turn to stone—somehow reveal himself to me. He’s an enigma this man—I can’t believe he’s standing right in front of me. But he just licks his beautiful lips and smiles…

“God, Lana, that tastes really, really awful.”

I take the cup from him and chug the rest still waiting for some kind of revelation to help this surreal encounter make sense. His English is perfect. He’s so smart and articulate. He’s a phenomenal artist and has a wrestlers body. I’ve never met anyone like him in the real world before, let alone the line-up of messed up kids paraded through my office. NEVER anyone like him. Never anyone like Mozey—not even remotely.

“Did you set this up?” I ask, turning to Lexi and narrowing my eyes at him. Is this a prank show? Is someone fucking with me?

“Answer me, Cruz. Why are you in Michigan?”

“Remember when we talked the day before yesterday and you said I couldn’t come?”

“Yes,” I say.

“I didn’t think you could do it alone. So I just didn’t listen to you. I got on a bus that night. Been riding for three days.”

“I have my family to help me. If we have to vacate, we’ll hire movers,” I say, eyeing him incredulously. But what I’m really thinking is—what the hell? Someone put you up to this?

“Okay, sure, but now you’ve got me too.”

And I want him. I want him. I really, really want him. But I don’t want him to know it. Not to mention I’ll get fired for this. I’ll lose my fucking job —the only one in my family.

“You came all the way to Michigan? How were you going to find me?”

“How many Lana Finch’s can there be?”

Gulp. Because that’s not really my name. It’s my legal name at least, but not what I’m known by to my family and friends. He never would have found me.

Lexi stares on completely enraptured by our exchange.

“Do you have a place to stay? Did you let your probation officer know?”