I’d seen what pizza from California looked like. Fuckin’ white sauce…

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I quickly checked my watch to make sure I wasn’t late. Still good on time, thankfully. I was to report to Clara Pierce on platform two, row fourteen, in twenty minutes. I assumed August was already there.

Having expected a response from Nicky, I was a little surprised to see my latest-added contact had texted me.

Camden.

Hi, Sir. I checked the festival website and wonder if you can get me some mini donuts from Pearl’s on row 17 before you come home? I don’t wanna bother Daddy when he’s working. Otherwise I would have messaged him instead, sorry. Hugs and kisses.

This kid was putting my ticker in a fucking vise.

I responded right away.

You can text me whenever, ragazzo. Of course I’ll pick up some donuts for you. Let me know if there’s anything else you want.

He should be here. It didn’t feel right that he had to stay home just because he was regressing. It was a huge festival. Maybe he could stay away from August’s spot during his events, but mannaggia, why couldn’t I pick up Camden after the cooking class? We could steer clear of row fourteen.

Camden’s reply consisted of approximately a dozen emojis, ranging from heart-eyes and wide smiles to hearts and a princess crown. Then an all-caps “THANK YOU, SIR” popped up.

I chuckled to myself and pocketed my phone. I might as well make my way over to the event.

Chapter 9

Washed by the Water - II