Page 20 of Fruit
“Thanks,” he says.
“Bye. Bye, Hugo.”
“Bye,” Hugo says with a slightly awkward wave. They go to walk away but Joshua pauses, turning to look at me.
“You coming back, then?” he asks.
“If that’s okay with you?”
“Yeah. Whatever,” Joshua says, smiling slightly. I return the smile.
They disappear through the double doors and I slump on the chair, not being able to drop the smile from my face. I look to the side and startle slightly when I see Sebastián standing there.
“Jeez, don’t sneak up on me,” I complain. Sebastián raises his eyebrows slightly.
“I’ve been here for a while,” he says. I scrunch up my nose. “That was nice, bringing Joshua that stuff.”
I shrug. “It’s fine. He’s…he’s a good kid, and he likes art, so…”
“You do too?”
“I’m a graphic designer. I mean, that’s my job, anyway.”
Sebastián nods. “Well. Joshua seems to like you, and he doesn’t open up to many people.”
“He’s a good kid,” I repeat.
“Yeah. He is.” Sebastián pauses for a moment. “We’re open to volunteers, if you were interested in joining us,” Sebastián offers. His face is hard to read, so I don’t know if he doesn’t want me here and is only saying it for Joshua’s sake. Still.
“I’d like that.”
“You can get the paperwork from Jasmine. And we’d have to run a background check.”
“That’s fine.” We look at each other. “About my cat—”
Sebastián shakes his head, an exasperated smile on his face. I know I’m crazy and irrational, okay? I know. But isn’t everybody irrational aboutsomething?
“No, okay, listen. I get it. You adopted her first. But, come on. That’s a technicality. I found her first.”
“You—”
“We should share custody,” I interrupt him. Sebastián looks at me incredulously. “For a while, I mean. And then Dump—the cat can decide.”
“The cat can decide,” he repeats monotonously.
“Yeah! Like, you stand on one end of the room and I stand on the other and we see who she chooses.”
“That is…ridiculous.”
“Or you can just give her to me,” I say challengingly. He looks at me for a moment.
“You’re not going to drop this, are you?”
“Nope.”
Sebastián sighs. “Fine,” he says after a long pause. I try to contain my excitement. “But you have to pick her up from mine. I’m not carting her around the city.”
“Fine. What’s your address?” I ask, picking up my phone from the table.
“On second thought, I’m not sure if I want you knowing my address,” he says. I glare at him. “Fine.” He rattles out his address and I save it to my phone.
“I can pick her up Saturday at like…one?” I say. He nods. “We can do alternating weeks.”
He nods again, and I try not to smirk.
I’m going to woo Dumpster Kitten with everything I’ve got.
