Nate wasn’t having it. His hands were clenched tightly into fists. “I can’t do it, Ash. It’s not just me. I can’t put the family at risk.”

Ash stepped away from him, pushing her dark hair out of her face. What about what Ash was risking? “So I do all of this lying and sneaking around behind Becca’s back. I even get this damn tattoo for you…”

“For me? I didn’t force you to do anything. You said it was cool. You said it would bring us closer together,” Nate said, frustration clouding his face.

Ash sighed. “I know, and I wanted to do it. I just don’t understand why you can’t do this for me,” Ash said. She hated how weak and needy she sounded.

“And I don’t understand why you want to screw up what we have,” Nate said, his voice rising.

“You okay, Ash?” Ash turned to see Eli eyeing Nate warily. He’d puffed his chest out as though he was attempting to make himself larger. A surge of appreciation flooded through her.

“We’re fine, Eli,” Nate snapped before Ash could speak.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Eli said, not backing down. Ash was surprised. Eli looked up to Nate, always following him around, asking him to teach him a new chord on his guitar. He was such a sweet kid. Crush or no crush, she appreciated his support. But she could handle Nate.

“I’m fine, E. Go finish your food. We’ll be over in a minute.” Eli hesitated. He didn’t leave, standing his ground.

“Jesus, Eli, give us some fucking space,” Nate shouted. He flinched just as Mo appeared.

“Okay, what is going on here and how can we resolve it?” she asked. Mo was the oldest of the Tribe, mid-forties, with ruddy sunburnt skin, and gray-streaked brownish hair that she always wore in a ponytail with a tie-dyed scarf. She was regarding them curiously, as though they were some kind of sociological experiment she was documenting.

Eli startled, eyes cast downward. “Nothing, Mo. It’s nothing,” Eli said as he hurried away. Nate didn’t say a word, staring down at his scuffed sneakers. As far as Nate and the others were concerned, Mo could do no wrong. Ash wasn’t so sure. There was something about Mo’s excessive cheerfulness, always wearing this slightly off-kilter smile. She reminded Ash of a puppet she once saw at the local library, the puppet master pulling its strings tighter and tighter until it was impossible to distinguish a smile from a grimace. Mo placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Relationships are complicated. I understand and value that. I’m happy to offer some insight if you’d like.”

Ash wasn’t sure why this rubbed her the wrong way. It wasn’t like Mo had made such great life choices. “What I’d like is to talk to Nate in private,” Ash said.

Ash saw Nate flinch, but Mo didn’t react at all, her smile unwavering. “Didn’t mean to intrude. If either of you change your mind and need my counsel, you know where to find me.”