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.Every time I’d watched her in seventh period, I’d wondered what she’d be like to kiss or anything else.I’d wondered if her hair felt as soft as it looked, and it did.I’d assumed she’d have more flaws close up, and she didn’t.I’d also known I’d get sick of her perky personality within minutes, and I hadn’t.And like every other guy, I’d fantasized the sex would be a twelve on a scale of ten, but it no longer mattered.I liked her.That constant optimism and charitable nature.The way she kissed me.The way she looked at me.God, the way she looked at me.Most people stared at me as though I were a felony waiting to happen.Students at Ridgeview scattered like cockroaches whenever I approached.Peyton never had, so it shouldn’t have surprised me when she texted Sunday asking if we could do lunch this week to study for the Mansfield test.Like she needed to ask.Most nights I crashed at the gym, except on nights when Mamá worked a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, seven to seven.Vanna suffered from chronic nightmares and couldn’t sleep alone at the house, so I made a point to drive home the nights when Ma couldn’t be there.Even after an intense night of training, the lulling, forty-five minute drive would calm me enough to do homework, and after an hour or two of that, I could finally go to sleep.But I had energy to burn Sunday night.My anxiety only increased when I pulled in to see Ma’s white Corolla parked in the driveway.God, not again.I barely parked.Used one porch step out of six as I scrambled to the front door.Vanna had secured both dead bolts, which forced me to calm down long enough to get in the front door.I found my sister on the couch, looking up from her drawing pad as the TV’s flickering light cast shadows across her worried expression.“I doubt she’s asleep,” she said.“It was a bad one.”Scowling hard enough to make my forehead ache, I pivoted without a word and headed down the dark hallway toward Ma’s room.I knocked softly.“Samuel?”She must have heard the Impala.“Yeah.”“Come in, mijo.”Pushing the door open, I knew better than to flip the light switch and navigated the dark instead.Once I reached the lamp in the farthest corner, I pushed the button, illuminating the room with enough soft light for me to see her stretched on top of the bed, forearm thrown over her eyes.“¿Qué hora es?” she murmured.“Almost midnight.” She hadn’t removed her scrubs or shoes.“This one must have hit fast.”“Why do you say that?”“You didn’t bother to change.”“Mhm.” She moved her arm and the wet washcloth, and squinted at me with those unique hazel eyes, identical to my sister’s.I got Ma’s hair color, although the chocolate mass she usually wore in a knot no longer had the shine from several years ago.It didn’t take more than a glance at her strained eyes and the tiny lines etched around her mouth to know her medication hadn’t touched the pain.She smiled anyway.“Savanna said you had a date last night.”Apparently, my usually quiet sister couldn’t keep her mouth shut.“Sí.”“And you’re going out again next weekend? The same girl?”“Sí, Mamá.” Her curious grin made heat seep into my cheeks and I quickly grabbed the cloth out of her hand to rinse it in a bowl of cool water Vanna left on the nightstand.My old-fashioned mamá had wanted me to meet a nice girl since I’d turned sixteen.Folding and handing her the washcloth, I was determined to turn the subject back to her health.“Usted necesita dejar de trabajar tanto.”She frowned.“I don’t work any harder than the other nurses.”“Maybe.But you’re working more than your usual three, twelve-hour shifts.You worked four extra days last month.Two this month.Just stop, Ma.Please.Why do you think I have two jobs?”“That’s the point.You shouldn’t have to work so hard.A fulltime student holding down two jobs? That schedule will catch up with you, mijo.”“I’m nineteen and have the stamina and energy of a professional fighter,” I said.“You don’t.You can’t run yourself into the ground like you did in your twenties, Ma.”She rolled her eyes—her usual response to the truth about her health.“I’m fine, Samuel.You worry too much.”“At least quit skipping meals.The doctor said to get your body on a regular schedule with food and sleep.That the migraines would decrease.” I was sick of repeating myself.“You’re a nurse.I don’t understand how you can ignore the symptoms of strain—” My voice disappeared, hoarse with emotion.“Quite worrying, mijo.” She gave me one of her reassuring smiles.“Now tell me more about this girl.Savanna told me you helped her brother,” she said, a renewed sparkle in her eyes [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]