Page 25 of So Wrong It Must Be Right

“I wanted to talk to you about the Gallaghers.”

Carter tensed, and not for all the reasons heshouldhave tensed. It should be all abouthatingthe Gallaghers, and not about . . . Dinah. “What about them?”

“I’ve got some ideas on how we can fight them,” Jordan said with a little too much fervor. Enough so that Carter laughed.

“We?”

“Yeah, man. I got your back. This is my neighborhood too. If they get you, they’ll go after my grandma next,” Jordan said, jerking his chin toward Carter’s neighbor. “I’m not going to let them bulldoze you. For your sake, and hers, and mine. Not to even mention how important our summer program is. It’s necessary, man. I’m in. I’m on your side, and I’m gonna help.”

Carter could only stand there, somewhat stunned. Though he and Jordan had become friends over the course of Carter’s building up the place here and Jordan’s visiting his grandmother, Carter never would’ve expected someone to stand with him. Fight with him. He wouldn’t have asked anyone to. He wouldn’t have dreamed of it.

His whole adolescence he’d asked people to fight with him—to not sell, to not give in—but no one had. He’d been brushed off or, worse, ridiculed. He’d been told he was irrational or a dreamer or whatever else.

No one had ever,eversaidYes, you’re right, Carter. We have to fight. We have to make a stand.No one had ever,everhad his damn back.

“Thanks, man,” Carter forced himself to say, surprised at the depth of emotion he felt at Jordan’s easy offer of help—no, not even offer. Jordan was standing there saying he had his back.

It was a big thing. Big enough he had to clear his throat to say more. “I appreciate the offer, I do, but I don’t need help on this. My no isn’t changing. I’m not selling to Gallagher. Ever.”

“You don’t know Gallagher if you think you don’t need help,” Jordan said, pacing the little brick pathway along the rows of beans. “They’re the thing that has endured in this neighborhood, and you know why? Because they’re shady as fuck. We’re not going to let them take any more of this block.”

“This place means too much to me, and it always has. There’s nothing Gallagher can do. They can throw millions at me, they can be shady as whatever, but I’m not leaving. Money doesn’t matter to me. Not anymore.” He’d struggle through whatever for this land, no matter what. If he had to go into debt up to his eyeballs, if he had to beg his family to chip in, he’d doanythingto keep this place.

“Okay, but keep your eyes open. Sometimes with people like that, you can’t just say no. You’ve got to fight dirty.”

“There’s no fight, Jordan. No one’s threatening me. No one’s . . . I said no to them—to many of them—and that’s that. They can’t force my hand.”

Jordan shrugged as he looked off in the direction of Gallagher’s. “For now,” he muttered, clearly unconvinced. “I’m starting to think it’s better to go offensive than defensive with people like that. They’re not just going to stop with this farmers’ market. They’re going to make this whole neighborhood hipster nonsense.”

“I hate to break it to you, Jordan, but you’re standing in a little bit of hipster nonsense as we speak.”

Jordan chuckled. “Okay, fair, but you know what I mean. Cafés and apartments and yuppie bullshit they’ll abandon at the first shooting. They don’t want community, they want . . . Instagram shit.” Jordan jerked a chin toward Gallagher’s this time. “And they’ll make money off it either way.”

Carter looked over at the looming brick form of Gallagher’s too. He knew Dinah wasn’t sleeping with him to “play dirty,” because it wasn’t going to work. Whatever her reason was, it was separate.

Even so, Jordan’s insinuation that they needed to fight the Gallaghers bothered him, more than it should. He shouldn’t think about Dinah or what fighting dirty would mean toher, because he could only care about his own interests.

He onlydidcare about his own interests. Any prick of guilt over Dinah was just some weird sex side-effect that would go away soon enough.

He wasn’t caving. This thing with Dinah and/or D wasn’t caving or giving in. It was separate. “Look, Jordan, I really appreciate your offer to help. If I get to the point where I feel like I have to fight to survive, I’ll definitely give you a call. I can’t lose this place, no matter what, but I don’t think we have to stoop to fighting dirty.”

Because he didn’t want to fight. He just wanted to be. Raise his plants and sell his produce and live in this last place his family had roots.

It had absolutely zero to do with any pretty Gallaghers with ridiculously dirty fantasies.

Jordan shrugged again, still glaring toward Gallagher’s. “I get it. Long as you know that I’m here and want to fight for you. This neighborhood’s got to stand for something again. You’re part of that.”

“I take it seriously,” Carter said gravely, because suddenly he was feeling grave. Grave and a bunch of other things he couldn’t untangle. He’d never been a part of something. He’d always been the lone voice of opposition, the only one fighting to save his world.

“Good.” Jordan clapped him on the back. “Come out with us tonight, huh?”

Carter’s gaze drifted to Gallagher’s. He couldn’t help himself. He definitely should take the offer of friendship that was being handed to him instead of thinking that he had agreed to be walking around Gallagher’s parking lot later. To meet D.

Dinah Gallagher.

But no amount of sense or reason was going to prevail today. It didn’t stand a chance after last night. “I’ve got plans tonight, but Saturday? At Stars?”

“You got it. I’ll see you later. Hey, you got anything I can bring to my grandma so she doesn’t smack me for skipping out on church last week?”

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