Page 113 of Movers and Shakers

“I can. He’s a mess.” Tom reached out to touch his hair.

“Dad, don’t even dare. I will scream and ruin breakfast for everyone if you mess up what I worked on for ten minutes.”

Tom’s hand stilled. “He’s sensitive about that.”

“Mom does it all the time! Do you know how much effort it takes to style this?”

Tom shook his head, still smiling. “Fine. I’ll be a decent dad and leave you alone. Speaking of dads, did you ever meet up with Wilfred?”

Shit.I hadn’t even thought about it. “I . . . did. It went okay.”

“What happened?”

A pit of anxiety settled in my stomach as if telling Tom about Wilfred would set us off. “He’s nice. I didn’t talk to him too long.”

“Who is that?” Max asked.

Tom looked at me, a silent question in his gaze.

“He’s my dad. My real one, that is.”

“You have a different dad?” Max asked. “Congratulations. It must be a relief.”

“Kind of,” I said. “Family stuff doesn’t really bother me.”

Max narrowed his eyes and I had a feeling he saw right through the lie.

“We can’t go in too hard on Barry. Let him have time to process.”

Relief hit me at Tom’s words. Sometimes, he was a decent brother.

Or all the time, as of late, it seemed.

“Thanks,” I said.

“When you’re ready, we’ll be there.”

“Can I be included too?” Max asked. “I’m invested now.”

“It depends on how south this goes.”

“You know, working out helps me process,” Tom offered. “After breakfast, I was thinking about heading to the gym.”

“Ew,” Max said. “Please leave me with abuela. I’m still recovering from the run we went on.”

“Is she even free?”

“For her favorite grandson? She better be. I’m still teaching her how to play Mario Kart. You two can have all the fun you want to at the gym. I have my own mission.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lila

Iwrote on the plane ride to New York City. As much as I was tempted to redownload and doomscroll social media in a feeble attempt to make myself feel better, I kept my phone on airplane mode to focus.

Plus, Malia had told me not to and I couldn’t take disappointing anyone else.

As we neared the city, I realized performing was going to be next to impossible, considering I’d written most of the song with Barry and it was going to be a constant reminder that he was mad. I was tempted to cancel, but then I’d be sitting in misery, which seemed worse.

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