Page 31 of Red Hot Harmony

“It’s not the same, Ally, when you’re a teenager.”

“Why not?” She fell back against her chair, the soft wind caressing her purple-streaked hair across her skinny shoulders. At that moment, she seemed small and vulnerable and I saw it. I saw it clearly—all that attitude was just for show. Armor to protect herself from the world, from its wickedness. Perhaps even an attempt to blend in with her ever-changing surroundings, to fit into a specific socioeconomic group she’s chosen to be a part of.

“Because you haven’t seen enough,” I said simply. “Haven’t met enough people to compare, to be able to tell the bad from the good.”

“So are you still comparing? With my mom?”

“I like your mom. A lot. And I like you too. You’re my future replacement.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not kidding you. You’re better than good. You can be a star one day.”

Blush colored her cheeks. She dropped her gaze to her cup of espresso. “You think so?”

“I’m positive.”

We were silent for a moment and the background sounds—the clatter of silverware and the fits of laughter—bled into the emptiness between us, only to stress the fracture in our delicate budding relationship.

I realized it then. I really cared about Ally in a way I hardly cared about anyone in my lawless life. I cared about whom she spent her time with. I cared about her well-being. I cared about her future. But most importantly, I cared about making some kind of difference in her life.

The sensation was strange, unexplored, blossoming behind my ribs like flowers in spring.

“Listen.” I tapped a restless finger against the surface of the table. “All these things you’re in such a hurry to do now aren’t going anywhere. Not in three years. Not in five. Not in ten. Only, you’ll get to be in control when you’re older. You’ll get to be in control of the outcome, something you can’t do right now.”

She was still looking at her cup.

“Ally?” I pressed.

She lifted her face, our eyes meeting above the ketchup holder. “Are you going to leave us eventually?”

“What do you mean?” Dread hit my bloodstream and sluiced down my veins.

“When you’re ready to move on to the next one?”

“You were listening, but you haven’t really heard anything I’ve said, have you?” A pause. “I don’t plan on leaving you unless your mom decides to kick me to the curb... And even then, I’ll fight against it with all I’ve got.”

Ally continued to stare, her expression shifting beneath the shade of the patio roof. “What’s the point of waiting and being safe if we’re all dying anyway?”

“So you can meet someone worthy.”

“Like you met my mom?”

“Yes, like I met your mom.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and angled her head to look past my shoulder, then said, “Just because you waited doesn’t mean we all should.”

“That’s the thing, Ally. I didn’t wait. I was doing hard drugs when I was your age. Yeah, sure, it was cool then. Look at me now. I can’t play my own solos. My brain and my body are ruined. Is this what you want to be when you’re older? Half a person?”

She didn’t respond.

“Your mom means well.”

“Not letting me do anything doesn’t seem like a mean-well strategy.”

“You don’t want a mother who doesn’t care, Ally. Both my parents beat the shit out of me for fun. All I ever wanted when I was a kid was to come home from school to a hot meal and not be subjected to scrutiny and abuse at least for one day. You have that. Many kids don’t. You should be thankful.”

Our food came next and we didn’t return to the topic anymore. I’d said everything I had to say. The rest was up to Ally.

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