Page 6 of My Darling Mayhem

My son perked up as we both registered that it must be Kane, who just slid into the space next to him. Relief had me smiling down at the cute kid with lightning-white hair, blue eyes, and light brows. I was worried my son would be alone this year or until Mrs. G. decided to rotate kids around.

The teacher turned on a PowerPoint, and the small transition had Cruz leaning out of my lap toward his new neighbor. The two boys huddled together laughing and somehow had already exchanged pocket toys. Cruz usually carried a Hot Wheel’s car with him or something similar, and apparently Kane did as well.

The new position where Cruz was huddled had me facing the side instead of the front of the room. It allowed me to see Kane’s parent, who was crouched next to his chair.

I had to do a double take because why was my new neighbor here? Maybe I was wrong…it couldn’t be him. I slid my gaze back over, and sure enough, he had the same hair as this morning, tangled and windblown but tucked behind his ears. Same leather vest, with patches, worn over a white T-shirt. Same asshole vibes.

Quickly returning to the PowerPoint, I tried to think through what I had said earlier this morning…and how he’d spoken to me. Irritation flared as I recalled his rude commentary and how his friends catcalled me.

Why was he here?

Mrs. G. finally got through the presentation, and she said something funny that I missed but had everyone clapping. I watched the man beside me ruffle his son’s hair while pointing at his name tag. Had he noticed me yet?

Would he even remember me? I was still wearing the same clothes as I was this morning except my hair was down now, but there was no way he had that bad of a memory.

The class began dispersing. The lights kicked back on, indicating that the PowerPoint presentation was over. The teacher now stood in a huddle of parents who were all asking various questions while introducing their kids.

I would have to explain to her that Cruz didn’t know enough Spanish for him to be half of the language duo she needed. I was about to stand up and join the line of parents, but she suddenly broke away from the group and walked toward our table, making apologies to the parents she left behind.

The man who had nearly run us over this morning, who was now standing, finally seemed to notice me. At least, it seemed like he did with the way his brows dipped and his cloudy blue eyes narrowed like he couldn’t place where he knew me from. Seeing him in a smaller, confined space made him look taller than he had earlier. His t-shirt was boxy, as though he’d purposely bought it extra baggy. It worked for him, though, as did his threadbare jeans tucked into dark motorcycle boots.

I tried to refocus on the teacher, but when he took a step toward me, Mrs. Gerald stepped between us.

“Mr. Green?”

I looked at how his blue eyes and fair features reminded me of some Viking shows I’d seen. His dark tattoos seemed to highlight his lean muscles, which were visible even under the fabric of his shirt. His longer hair was pulled into a tidy bun at the nape of his neck. The pieces behind his ear were messy and untamed, reminiscent of something rogue and wild like I’d seen in him earlier.

“Right, but you’re not technically on the approved list…so I don’t want to confuse Kane on who can pick him up.” I overheard Mrs. Gerald saying to him.

My eyes snapped to my neighbor’s jaw, appreciating how defined it was, as it tensed and he looked down at his feet. “I realize that, but his foster parents said?—”

“It doesn’t matter what they say; it matters what the courts say. I appreciate that you want to be a supportive older brother, but until a judge says Kane is in your custody, it’s really not appropriate for you?—”

“Archer, look!” Kane turned around with a massive smile, holding up a name tag.

There was a drawing of a motorcycle on it that he was proud of. When I saw how my neighbor responded to seeing it, something in my stomach flipped.

He sidestepped the teacher, who had been berating him, and bent down until he was at eye level with his little brother. “Kane, this is awesome. We’re going to have to add this to your gallery.”

Kane beamed. “I can’t wait until I have my own bike.”

Cruz was also inspecting it now with wide eyes and a huge smile. “You can ride a motorcycle?”

“My big brother takes me on rides, and one time he let me dr?—”

Archer placed a hand on Kane’s shoulder, pulling him closer while ruffling his hair. “Not everyone needs to hear about that, buddy.”

I hid a smile, trying to ignore how cute the brothers acted together because I still didn’t like this man on principle. Then I remembered what Mrs. Gerald had said about foster parents, and my smile fell. It sounded like my neighbor was trying to get custody of his little brother, which reluctantly, I internally had to admit, was sweet. I hated that the teacher was berating him in front of an audience. It was still rude, even if it was just me close enough to hear. Archer's eyes flashed toward his little brother as a red flush began creeping into his cheeks, which made guilt churn in my chest. I didn’t know him…I didn’t owe him anything, and yet…

“Well, Mr. Green, I still think you shouldn’t?—”

“Cruz doesn’t speak Spanish,” I blurted, interrupting Mrs. Gerald’s lecture. My neighbor’s eyes darted to mine, widening slightly, showing his surprise. I looked back, unsure why I had helped him but feeling the need to do it just the same.

Mrs. Gerald pushed some of her unruly hair behind her ear; her face flushed the tiniest bit while she quickly glanced at Archer and then me. “I’m sorry, what?”

My gaze bounced around the room, seeing a few other parents looking over at us. My nerves were starting to fray as I stepped closer and tried to quiet my voice. “It’s just that…you have Cruz and Kane as partners, but I’m afraid you made an assumption about Cruz being able to speak Spanish. He can’t.”

“Mrs. Vasquez, I ap?—”

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