Page 36 of Beautiful Defiance

“My mother was funny, beautiful, kind, and soft-spoken. She was a seamstress. My father worked odd jobs. They were a good pairing. He was the firecracker to her gentle breeze. Anytime he walked into a room, his presence lit the place up with this contagious energy. If I could bottle it, his energy would have powered an entire block of buildings.”

“He was charismatic.”

“Yes,” I say, in awe of how well Seven understands who my father was.

“I bet he was charming too.”

“Very.” I bite down on my smile. Seven is charismatic and a charmer. The reason his teammates follow his lead and the girls clamor for his attention.

“Did you live with relatives after their deaths?”

“I wish. I spent my years up until a month ago in the foster care system. I turned eighteen on the flight over here. Thomas met me at the airport.”

“Are you saying you celebrated a monumental birthday mid-air?”

“No celebrating,” I admit.

“That’s shitty. I’m sorry, Leigh.”

“Not your fault.”

“Happy belated birthday.”

I wait two beats before answering. After my parents’ deaths, no one took the time to wish me a happy birthday.

“Thank you, Seven.” I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back. He understands how much his wish meant to me.

“My favorite food is Vietnamese pho,” I continue, answering his questions one by one. “No matter sunshine or rain, the soup gives me comfort and reminds me of my parents. My dad worked for this noodle house in Chinatown in San Francisco. They paid him under the table and our meals were half off. We didn’t go often. Traffic in the area is bad, and my father would rather my mom and I stick close to our apartment building.”

“There’s a pho restaurant in the town center.”

“Really?”

He laughs at the excitement in my voice. “You betcha.”

“I’ll have to give it a try.”

“And your dreams? No need telling me of your heartaches, Leigh. I can already guess what that is.”

The tenderness in his voice . . . My throat tightens, and I swallow past the lump lodged there.

Why is he being so nice? Is he tired of me having the upper hand?

Getting outwitted by a girl, a nobody, has got to be an ego-buster for a cocky guy like Seven.

“I would love to work in a large city like Alexandria or Montgomery.” I tell him of my dream, starting with where I’d move to.

Alexandria and Montgomery are two large cities north and south of the small college town of Dumas.

“I’d help disadvantaged kids. Show them what resources are out there. Be a mentor. Someone they trust.”

“So something along the lines of a counselor?”

“Yes.”

“You’d be good, Leigh.”

“Except for my rap sheet.”

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