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Oh. Had she mentioned that when we had lunch? It’s fine. So what if she’s not into books like Miles? “What kind of magazines?”

“I like celebrity magazines from the drug store. Like gossip ones.”

I exhale. Maybe Abbey actually isn’t right for Miles.

“Hey, Sana, are you going to your prom with anyone?” Thomas asks. “Abbey said it’s in a hotel, so I assume you have a room for the night. I can free up my schedule if you need a date.” He flashes the grossest smile. Was I supposed to find his offer attractive?

“You’re an ass, you know that?” Miles says. Which, true, Thomas is an ass. But telling him that to his face is certainly a choice. All Thomas did was ask me to my prom.

Abbey looks at me with a worried expression. “I like books with animals too. I read one about whales once.”

“Oh, that sounds fun,” I say, hoping to defuse the tension between the guys. “I read a book with a cat—”

“What’s your damage, bro?” Thomas practically growls at Miles.

“I’m not your bro ,” Miles says. “And my damage is that you’ve been talking out of your ass since we got here with your crypto crap, and I don’t know why you think I’d approve of that rude gesture you made about Sana when she was getting food.

You’re a pig—you should go see if they’ll roast you on a spit. ”

Ew . What exactly was this gesture? But also… Thomas is considerably larger than Miles and looks incredibly pissed off. The last thing we need is physical violence at our festival committee’s first research trip.

Abbey still seems to want to defuse the situation. “You have to try this fish! It’s so good!” She spears her sardine with a fork and points it at Miles with such force that it flies off her plastic fork and hits Miles in the face before landing on his lap.

Everyone is silent for a moment. Did that really happen?

“Did you just throw a fish at me?” Miles asks Abbey. He doesn’t sound angry, more shocked.

“Oh no!” Abbey says. “I’m sorry! My sardine got away from me. Here… let me…” She reaches to get her grilled fish from Miles’s lap, and in the process knocks down her orange soda, which spills onto both hers and Miles’s laps.

Miles scrambles out of his seat and wipes his lap with a napkin. Which causes the fish to fall to the ground in a puddle of orange soda.

“What the hell did you do to my sister?” Thomas yells at Miles.

Now Miles looks angry. His eyebrow is still twitching, and his nostrils flare. “She threw her fish at me!”

“It was an accident,” Abbey says.

Thomas stands. “Yeah, but this isn’t.” He takes a handful of fries out of his box and throws them directly at poor Miles.

I stand. “What the frick!” I yell at Thomas.

Miles was defending me from this creep. He doesn’t deserve fish, fries, or orange soda thrown at him.

I whip my second pastéis de nata at Thomas.

The tart hits him in the chest with a thud, creating a large splotch of custard and pastry on his T-shirt.

He looks like a combination of anger and shock. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.

Cara laughs at Thomas, then throws a handful of salad greens at him. A leaf of arugula sticks to the custard on his chest, which only makes him angrier.

“Hey,” a voice says. I turn and see a guy wearing a festival volunteer shirt, standing with a uniformed security guard. “Knock it off. I’m going to have to ask you kids to leave.”

Thomas, still furious, glares at Cara, then at me, then turns to his sister. “This isn’t worth it. Let’s get away from these weirdos, Abbey. Who plans festivals for fun, anyway?”

Abbey nods, then gets up and leaves with her brother without even looking at me or Miles.

The rest of us apologize and start cleaning up our mess before we leave.

I can’t believe we got kicked out of a neighborhood festival.

The Love on Love Street Festival planning committee is off to a terrible start.

Soon after we’re done cleaning, Hannah says something about meeting her friends downtown, and Cara goes with her. Which leaves me alone with Miles to walk to the subway.

“You have fish skin on your cheek,” I say, handing him a napkin. “Oh, and a french fry in your hair.” I pick it out. I feel so bad—this was my fault. I’m the one who invited Abbey.

“That went well, don’t you think?” he deadpans while wiping his face.

I squeeze my lips so I won’t laugh, but it’s unnecessary because Miles starts laughing himself while using the napkin to wipe his jeans.

Even with fish on his face and french fries in his hair, Miles is still adorable. Especially laughing.

“I’m sorry,” I say when his laughter eases a bit. “I had no idea Abbey would bring her brother. Or that her brother would be the definition of douchey crypto-bro.”

Miles chuckles as he tosses the napkin in a trash bin. “At least the food is good. I’m glad I finished my sandwich before someone threw it at me.”

“I shouldn’t have thrown that tart. Thomas wasn’t worth it.” What a disaster. Although Abbey didn’t seem too bad. Just a little clumsy. “So, when her brother wasn’t being a blowhard, do you think you and Abbey hit it off? Like, did you talk on our way there at all?”

Miles shakes his head. “I tried to talk to her, but she only gave one-word answers.” We get to the subway station, tap our cards, and rush to get the train that is rolling in.

Once we’re seated, I smile at Miles. “Abbey is a bit quiet, but I thought you’d like that. She’s so pretty. You didn’t feel a spark?”

He raises a brow. Miles has really expressive brows. Like he could tell a whole story with his eyebrows. And his eyelashes.

I have to stop staring at the guy’s eyes.

“Why do you think I’d want someone quiet?” he asks.

“Maybe because you think I talk too much?”

“I don’t think you talk too much. I like talking to you. Even if most of the time we’re arguing.”

I look at him. I’ve been trying to tamp down this extremely inconvenient attraction I seem to have for Miles Desai, and it would be much easier if he didn’t say things like he enjoys talking to me.

“Okay, so you want someone who never agrees with you and who is philosophically opposed to everything you believe in?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I like people who speak their mind. Who have opinions on things. I think this setup idea is ridiculous, by the way. If the next date throws a fish at me, I’m done.”

I laugh. “Fair enough. I need to find someone with a mind of their own, conversation skills, no dickwad family members that they bring on dates, and who will not throw, drop, or launch a fish at you. Piece of cake.”

We spend the rest of the ride home talking about what we liked and didn’t like at the festival. Coming to this thing was a great idea, even if Miles didn’t have instalove with Abbey. I know I’ll do better next time.

The following night at home I’m trying to get some work done on my final project for my painting class, when I hear Mom call out for me. I wash my paintbrush and find her at the dining table with her laptop in front of her. Zuri is curled up in a ball on the table.

“You look like one of those lo-fi YouTube videos with the cat and all those plants,” I say. “You just need a scarf.”

Mom looks up at me, frowning, then takes her glasses off her face. Her curly hair is in a messy bun on her head again. “Can you watch the store tomorrow evening? My flower wholesaler’s in town.”

“Sorry, I’m at Cosmic tomorrow.”

She exhales. “Okay. I’ll figure something out.”

She puts her glasses back on and looks at her computer.

“Mom, are you okay? You look… stressed.”

She doesn’t take her eyes off her computer when she answers me. “Aren’t we all?”

I sit at the table. Zuri notices me and stretches out, so I scratch under her chin. “Yeah, I guess we all are.” I wonder if it’s time for me to tell her that I know she’s thinking of selling the building.

Mom takes off her glasses again and looks at me carefully. She’s always been gorgeous, but there are dark circles under her eyes and some new lines around her mouth.

“Are you stressed, Sana? You’re working hard at Cosmic, plus the prom committee and the Love Street project. It’s your very last month of high school—you should be enjoying it.”

I shake my head. “The fact that school is almost over is why I should be focusing on Love Street. In a month I won’t be at that school anymore, but I’ll still be here, won’t I?” Unless Mom sells the building. But that won’t happen because the festival will save the street.

Mom shakes her head. “Don’t give up your youth for this, Sana. How was the festival in Little Portugal?”

I chuckle. “A disaster. I brought this girl from school, Abbey, as a date for Miles, but she brought her asshole brother. She accidentally threw a grilled fish at him, which started a food fight, and we got kicked out.”

Mom laughs. “Sana Merali, you are a drama magnet. Why did her accidentally throwing a fish start a food fight?”

“Her brother started it. He was a complete creep to me. Like, he asked me to take him to my prom but only if I have a hotel room for the night.” I shudder.

“Oh dear. Can I assume you put him in his place?” Mom knows full well that I don’t tolerate that kind of thing.

“Actually.” I pause. “Miles told him off. Which is how the whole fish-launching happened.” I don’t think I really processed the fact that Miles came to my rescue.

Mom nods appreciatively, laughing. “Good for him.”

I giggle too. The whole thing is funny, actually. “Back to square one in finding Miles a girlfriend, though.”

“Why do you need to find him a girlfriend? Let Miles be.”

I shake my head. “He needs to fall in love! The guy seriously doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. He actually called love locks pollution.”

“They technically are, aren’t they?”

“Mom, not you, too!” I know my mother isn’t romantic … but I thought she’d be on my side.

“Okay, okay, Sana. But have you considered that the guy might actually be interested in you ?”

First Cara, now my own mother thinks me and Miles should be together?

“Seriously, Mom? I love grumpy heroes in romance novels, but not in real life. He’s way too pessimistic—we’d be terrible together!

Miles Desai has only two things going for him: he understands the bureaucracy to get the approvals we need for the festival, and he’s committed to maintaining communities like Love Street.

That’s why I want to work with him on this.

My focus is only on the festival right now, not on my love life.

Miles’s two positive traits aren’t enough for me to forget what’s important. ”

Mom shrugs. “He’s got nice hair.”

Fair point. “Okay, three positive traits. It’s still not enough.”

“It might be enough for you one day, Sana.”

I doubt that very much.