Page 16 of Wild Hit
Responses come in record time.
Darling Hope
Obviously you distract her lol
Me
Thanks, captain obvious
Princess Rose
Marty? She’s a hoot! Logan and I met her at Miguel’s welcome party a few weeks ago
But wait a second. What do you mean she came home from school? I thought you were at OUR home, not Miguel’s??
Me
Oh
Did I not mention that he’s our neighbor?
Darling Hope
Wait WHAT
Princess Rose
EXCUSE YOU
HOW DARE YOU KEEP SUCH A JUICY PIECE OF GOSSIP FROM US
The sound of a door opening and closing pulls me away. My phone is still buzzing with texts as I tuck it back into my pocket and wait for Marty. Her expression is still the definition of grumpy as she walks over to stop before me.
“Nanny Consuelo said I can be out for an hour before she calls me for dinner and to do my homework. And also that she’ll be watching us through the blinds.” Then she points at the house where, sure enough, the blinds shake after someone quickly steps away.
“I agree to the terms.” I nod in agreement and then point at the mess we’re about to make. “I assume you’ve never used a drill in your life, right?”
“Er, no.” Her pretty eyes widen, though they’re no longer sad or watery.
I grin, hoping that she can tell I was joking. “It’s fine, that’s the part I enjoy the best anyway. Just help me hold the evil thing while I unscrew it.”
“You got it,” she says like a little soldier, and we get to work. I succeed on my mission of distracting her until her dad arrives from training, and the most curious thing happens.
Her grumpiness returns in full force.
CHAPTER 8
MIGUEL
Iofficially like Consuelo. The second Marty walked home and asked her if she could play outside with a neighbor, Consuelo called me with a full report to ask my opinion. Granted, this time it worked out because I wasn’t in the middle of a game, but also because said neighbor turned out to be none other than Audrey Winters-not-Cox.
Even knowing that, I’m unprepared for the sight that greets me as I get home and step off my RAV4. I circle the vehicle slowly, kinda hoping that my presence doesn’t attract their notice—if only because someone could lose a limb if I break their concentration. Probably me, with how my record with the blonde goes.
“Okay, I got it as firm as I can,” said blonde declares while simultaneously trying to hold a post and keeping as much distance as she can.
My daughter holds a mallet over her head. “Ready?” she asks.
Our neighbor scoffs. “I was born ready. Hit it.”
