Ten
Careena
The bell on the store’s front door jingles. I turn around, expecting Duke to chase me. It’s Shaquille. Smiling is a struggle, but I bare my teeth in welcome and slow down so his long-legged strides can catch up to me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, eyebrows pooling together. “Things were tense back there.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that. Mr. Lam and I share a building, but we don’t really get along.” I nod to the white packet between his strong brown thumbs. “Did the pictures come out okay?”
“Yes, of course.” He bobs his head.
“Did you finish signing up for the music school?”
Yes.” He stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “Uh, Careena?”
I raise my hands and use my palm to shade my face from the glare of the sun. “Yes?”
“Are you free tonight?”
“What?”
“If you are, would you
