Page 67
Story: My Pucked Up Neighbor
Mandy leans into me. "This is already the best thing I’ve seen all week."
I grin. "Wait until the cookie decorating disaster starts. That’s when the frosting war breaks out."
We split off into stations. Mandy gets the reading-and-career-goals corner, while I end up in charge of mini floor hockey with Dillon.
Half an hour in, I glance over between shifts and catch Mandy kneeling next to a little girl in pink glasses who’s holding up a homemade "Future Lawyer" sign.
Mandy’s laughing, animated, nodding as the kid rattles off reasons why she wants to "argue for justice and make the bad guys pay."
I lean on my stick and watch them for a second.
She doesn’t see me.
But I see her.
"You're really good at this," I hear her say gently to the little girl in pink glasses, who’s holding a stack of construction paper briefs and a glitter-covered toy gavel.
"Do you really think so?" the girl asks shyly.
"Absolutely. You laid out your case better than most first-year law students," Mandy says with a warm grin.
The girl giggles, puffing up with pride. "I wanna be a lawyer like you. Or maybe a judge. Then I can bang the hammer."
"Gavel," Mandy corrects softly. "But yeah. It’s yours to bang. Just make sure you listen first. The best judges listen more than they talk."
"That’s hard. I talk a lot."
"Me too. But I learned it’s okay to be both strong and loud, and still good at hearing other people."
The girl leans in. "Do people ever not take you serious? ‘Cause you’re a girl?"
Mandy’s smile doesn’t waver. "All the time. But that just makes proving them wrong feel even better."
"You think I can really do it?"
"I know you can. You already are."
The girl nods fiercely and hugs her.
And fuck, I fall a little harder.
***
"Why is James on the roof?" Mandy asks an hour later, holding a paper plate covered in frosting and crushed Oreos.
I follow her gaze out the gym window.
"Technically, it’s not the roof. It’s the storage shed. And technically, he lost a bet with Mikey."
"So naturally he had to climb up there in a tutu and singLet It Go."
"Detroit Acers tradition. You wouldn’t understand."
She shakes her head. "Y’all are unhinged."
"Accurate."
James belts the chorus with impressive commitment. A few of the kids join in. One little boy is conducting with a popsicle stick.
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