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Izzy makes a tsk’ing sound.
“We’ll just swing by and grab our mail every day! No big deal.”
“Izzy,” I say, my tone low and even. “Mail fraud is a federal crime.”
“Ugh!” Izzy shouts before standing up and grabbing her phone. “No one cares how I feel! You suck!”
Izzy stomps out of the dining room. I frown and walk after her.
“This isn’t about you, Izzy! I didn’t choose to move! Our apartment building was shut down. There’s nothing I can do about that!”
“That’s your freaking tagline! ‘There’s nothing I can do’ blah blah blah. You might as well tattoo it on your forehead!”
Izzy slams the door to her room, leaving me standing alone in the living room with my mouth hanging open.
Carter comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me.
“Hey, you okay?”
I shake my head.
“I’m fine. Just… what a little brat. How does she think this is my fault?” I let out a breath. “No, that’s not fair. She’s just upset. And I understand. She’s been in that school district since kindergarten. All those kids… they’re the same ones she’s grown up with forever. I can’t imagine changing schools with only months left till graduation.”
Carter spins me and kisses my forehead.
“I’ll talk to her, okay? Why don’t you head upstairs and get in bed? An early night is just what you need between the sickness and the bad news.”
I lick my lips and nod, giving him a small smile.
“Thank you. I have no idea how I got so lucky with you.”
We hug and then I head upstairs, ready to sleep the day away and start anew.
I wasn’t lying about what I said to Carter, either. Whatever good thing I did in a past life to deserve Carter, I am so, so thankful for it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Carter
Itakeadeepbreath before stepping up to the teenager’s door. I’m not a parent, never really dealt with kids or teenagers in my life. But if I want to become a permanent fixture in Addy’s, I need to learn. I knock on the door, three sharp raps.
“Go away!” Izzy’s shout is muffled through the door. I sigh and knock again.
“It’s Carter.” No response. “Let’s go get some ice cream and talk. I can’t imagine how much that news sucks, but talking about it might make you feel better. And even if it doesn’t, you could just use me for the ice cream.”
There’s shuffling noises before the door swings open, revealing Izzy. She shoves her hands in her hoodie and glares at me with red rimmed eyes.
“I’m just using you for the ice cream,” she states before walking toward the front door. I repress my chuckle and follow after her.
“Wanna take the Porsche?” I ask as we step outside.
“Duh.”
I ignore her attitude and unlock the car. Once inside, we both buckle our seatbelts as I back out of the driveway. Izzy pulls out her phone, indicating to me that she doesn’t want to talk at all.
Halfway to McFreezie’s Ice Cream, though, her phone dies. She sighs and slips it in her pocket, turning to look out the window.
“Where are we going?”