At least I could blame someone else for that.

Chapter 27

THE LAST WEEKS OF SCHOOL before Christmas break proved to be my most studious ever. After the Enlightened Intervention, I made sure not to have time for much else. When it wasn’t algebra systems and inequalities, the Clinton impeachment from government class, or dissection prep for biology, I was snatching up every FISHto’s shift I could get. I’d been a much better and focused employee, so Tyrell put me on the schedule way more. I didn’t complain. By the time I got my mid-December paycheck, I had enough for my part of the car insurance bill and some left over for Christmas gifts.

Another Baby-Getter returned to school, even though it was late in the year—she apparently had kept up her studies at home—and she became the gossip that drowned the Me/Mason/Kiera drama. I saw Kiera, of course, even though I tried to look the other way. When she wasn’t in the corner of my eye, she was in the back of my thoughts. So I worked harder, anything to stay occupied. Focused. Idle hands were the devil’s playground.

The Wednesday before the holiday break, after the dinner rush at FISHto’s, I crouched behind the front-line counter organizing condiments, when above me, I heard a cheery, “Good evening, Del.”

Popping up, I was greeted by the eternally sunny face of Sister Vanessa. She was bundled up in a leather jacket with a bright blue Hampton University hoodie beneath it. She seemed to be waiting on something.

“Are you looking for Mya? She’s off tonight.”

“I know. Choir rehearsal. She has a beautiful voice, doesn’t she?” Her gaze angled up and over my head, perusing the menu. “What’s good here?”

“The platter is cool if you like a more traditional seafood meal. You get fish, fried or broiled, some shrimp, an ear of corn.”

She stroked her chin. “Think I’m in the mood for something a little bolder. How’s that Sriracha Crabcake Sandwich?”

“It’s good. Spicy, obviously.”

“Let’s do that. The combo. For here.”

I rung it up, took her money, and asked, “Do you like hush puppies?”

“Sure. Do those come with the combo?”

“Nope, just fries.” I held up a finger, approached the food rack between me and the kitchen, signaled Stu. “Throw some hush puppies on, too.”

“That is very generous of you, Del.”

The freshly arranged condiments beneath the counter became super interesting. “It’s the least I can do.”

The order was up. I added a drink cup, plus the proper sauces, to her tray.

She said, “You wouldn’t be able to take a break right now, would you? I’m not a fan of eating alone.”

“Ummm . . .” My stomach churned with new nerves. I shouted, “Tyrell, can I take a break?”

“Go for it,” he called from somewhere in back. Turns out he was a kinda cool boss when you actually showed up to do real work. We’d had no problems lately.

She filled her cup with sweet tea from the silver cylinder by the Coke machine, then joined me in a booth. Immediately, she bit into one of the hush puppies. “Ohhh, these are good.”