Page 55 of Play Book

She hesitates. Makes a face. Finally shrugs. “I guess math. I like numbers. They make sense.”

I nod. “Nice.”

“We done here?”

“Look, we have a lot to talk about. We might as well start now.”

“Like what? I’ll crash on your couch until we find me somewhere else to go, and then I’m out of here.” She starts putting on her headphones, but I stop her.

“Hey. Knock it off.” I give her a look. “I’m still talking to you.”

“Fine.”

“You’re not going anywhere else. This is where you’re going to live. With me.”

For the briefest second, Ally’s bravado falters.

Then she puts her mask of defiance back on.

“How long?” she demands.

“Forever,” I say quietly. “Where else would you go?”

She glares at me. “My mom said I can look for my dad when I’m thirteen!”

Over my dead body.

“You can,” I point out as gently as I can. “But he left a long time ago. What makes you think he’ll want to be in your life now?”

“Because I’m his kid.”

Yeah, whatever.

That’s not happening.

“Look… you can be as grumpy as you want, but at least for now, we have to co-exist. Tell me what kind of food you like so I can order groceries.”

“You cook?” She arches one brow dubiously.

“Not a lot, but I like to grill. Burgers, chicken?—”

“I don’t eat chicken,” she interrupts. “I already told you that.”

“I understand. I was just telling you what I cook. What about corn? Grilled corn with butter, salt, and garlic is the bomb.”

For the first time I’ve piqued her interest.

Her eyes meet mine. “That sounds…okay.”

“Hot dogs?”

She shrugs.

“Cereal?”

She rattles off three kinds she likes, and I quickly pull out my laptop, typing it into the grocery service I use.

“What kind of milk?” I ask.

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