Smiling. Biting her lip. Closing her eyes.

“I can’t.” She’s quiet for a minute. “But I can meet you after—”

I cut her off with a dramatic sigh. “It’s just that Buddha’s raging. He’s throwing stuff and yelling. Think I heard swear words. And a threat to hurl himself off the windowsill if you don’t come. And then he raged when I told him you tried to break up with me last night. I can’t handle his rage in my delicate condition.”

“It must be tough…”

“Especially after last night.”

The pause is filled with her smile’s electricity. “How are your ribs?”

“It’s not my ribs I’m worried about.”

“Whatare you worried about, then?”

“My lips. They need like…” I squint at the ceiling. “A lip gloss transfusion or something. From a willing donor.”

Beams of smile light are shooting through the phone. “That sounds life-threatening.”

“It’s a slow, painful way to die.”

“I should come pay my last respects.”

“You definitely should.” My abs tense just thinking about kissing her again, and it hurts. In a good way.

“Maybe I will.”

“Then maybe I’ll see you in an hour? I’ll try to stay alive until then,” I whisper. Our smiles meet somewhere between our phones before I sign off, then grit my teeth and slide off my bed, swearing at the rug while holding my ribs as I shuffle to the kitchen. I hate those guys so much. Hate that I can’t tell Dad. Hate that, if I wanna keep Mei, we have to sneak around.

Dad’s at the table, reading something on his phone. “Hey.” I ease toward the cupboard as fluidly as I can.

He shoves his phone in his pocket. “What’s up, M.C.?”

“Not a lot.” Yet.

“Whoa.” Dad stands and steps closer. “Where’d you get the shiner?” He tilts my head back and inspects it.

“Header gone wrong. Practicing last night at Johnny’s.” I swallow the sour lie. “Guess I should’ve gone to youth ministry instead.” The lie combusts in my chest and burns up my throat into my eyeballs.

Dad nods. “Yep. Jesus saves.” He smiles and pretends to slug me in the chin before patting the side of my head. He pulls out his phone and finishes texting while I pour a heaping bowl of cereal and ease onto a bar stool like today’s any other school day, and I’ll head off to fill my mind with knowledge. Definitely gonna learn—all about Mei. Her secrets. Her lips. But nothing else. Motorcycle.

“Marcus?”

I look up from my Froot Loops. “Yeah?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Did you hear me?”

“Oh. No—sorry.”

“I just said I’m sorry I was so late last night. Things have been heating up at the precinct. I hate being gone so much.”

“Any leads?” I shove cereal in my mouth.

“If it’s who I think it is, the guy’s a thug to the bone. Can’t wait to lock him up.” He glances at his phone. “Sad thing is, I think there are a lot of people involved. Undocumented immigrants.” He shakes his head. “People come here to make a better life and get caught up in stuff they never dreamed of doing just to stay.” He grabs his plate, puts it in the dishwasher, and glances at me. “Text when your homework’s done, and Lex and I’ll meet you for dinner somewhere. Take Lex’s bike for a ride, maybe?” He rubs his hands together. “You need some practice. Graduation’s coming right up.”

“Yeah.” The word squeezes through my tight throat. “Could definitely use some practice.”

When Dad leaves, I ease into the shower, brush my teeth, and text Mei. Ten minutes later, I lean against the open door of The Clubhouse and almost don’t recognize her skimmingthe stairs in a baseball cap and giant sunglasses. But the way her hips move when she walks…it’s all her. Her skinny jeans ride low, the V-neck underneath her jacket clinging to her, and I swallow my pounding heart, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside before shutting and locking the door.