Well, damn it, the chance of Dylan to chat about his shithead, drunk father equals zero, so I may as well do it for him. After all, I’m in it too to some extent, due to our friendship…
“You know what?” I pull my face to a bitter smile,” I don’t care. That halfwit is not hear to protest, and it’s only his fault, so we can discuss him, for all I care.” Amina doesn’t smile, and she’s right. This is not funny at all, even I’m only joking out of embarrassment, to ease the tension. “But honestly, it’s a really f****d story, and I have no idea where to start.”
Amina puts her hand on my arm, and begins to stroke me gently, encouragingly.
“Start with how you met. You said you were ten.”
I slow down the pace a little, pull over to the outer lane and start.
“It happened at school. Dylan had just
