Page 26 of Give Me a Shot

“Mo?” she asked him. “You’ve met someone?”

He glared at his brothers. Clearing his throat, he tightened his crossed arms.

“I spoke to another human being. She made a good point. I shared it.”

The three of them looked at one another. Maybe if he kept his mouth shut, all the excitement would die out.

Their mom raised an eyebrow.

“There’s more to the story than that, Mo,” she said.

“There always is,” Khalil said, grinning again.

Mo grunted.

“Um…” Rachid said. “If you think Jess is worth listening to, that says a lot about her as a person. You don’t let anyone in enough to give you advice.”

“You areverycareful about who you listen to, Mo,” their mom said.

Mo let his head slump back against the couch, closing his eyes.

“You know,” Khalil said, “if you refuse to tell us anything, it’s only going to feed our imaginations….”

Mo opened one eye to glare at Khalil’s grinning face. Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. And if Mo didn’t want Mr. Family Gossip Column to get too overexcited, he should set the record straight in advance. He rolled his eyes and lifted his head.

“She was in the shop. Overheard me talking to someone who wanted to thank me. Saw I was uncomfortable. Said it’s okay to accept credit. Satisfied?” He glared at Khalil again.

“I got, I got it, man,” Khalil said with his hands raised.

“That’s…unusual,” Rachid said. “For another customer to just walk up to you and give advice after eavesdropping.”

“Not just a customer,” Mo said, having relaxed a bit once Khalil backed off. Rachid raised an eyebrow and looked at their mom. Mo glanced up and saw that her eyebrow was raised as well.

“She’s notjusta customer, but she was in your shop? Close enough toyouto overhear your conversation?” she asked. Her cheeks hollowed a little, like she was biting the insides. Khalil was looking at the TV, but Mo knew he wasn’t grinning like that because of what was on the screen.

Mo sighed, scratching at his beard. Only,onlybecause they were his family and he knew they meant well and he loved them, and in a weird perverse way he felt at peace and somewhat recharged after he spent time with them instead of totally spent like with the rest of the world, did he not explode. He sighed again.

“She just started coming to the Folk School,” he said.

“Is she a blacksmith?” Khalil asked.

“No. Archer. We’re on the Ren Faire committee together,” Mo said.

Khalil and his mom reeled like bowling pins and Mo realized his new mistake with a wave of itchy skin.

“You’re doing a Ren Faire?” Khalil asked, eyes wide.

“What’s a Ren Faire?” At least Rachid sounded like his usual inquisitive self, no shock that made Mo feel unbalanced. He sighed and tugged a little at his beard.

“Folk School needs funds,” he muttered. “Think we can make it if we have a Ren Faire.”

Khalil tittered.

“Are you gonna dress up?”

Mo shoved himself off the couch and onto his feet.

“Mo!” his mom said, reaching for him. “Khalil, you’re not helping.” She scowled at him.

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