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“Uhh, thanks?”

She laughed. “That’s about the usual response to me.” She held out her hand. “Aibhlinn Leahy, I’m Ms. Leahy’s daughter. I just transferred to this high school.”

So, she didn’t know to stay away from the degenerate foster boy yet. “Enzo,” he said, quickly shaking her hand.

“Ahh, it’s nice to meet someone else around here with a unique name.”

He snorted. Heads turned to glance back at them. He scowled, and they faced forward. “Look, you’re new here, so you don’t know any better. But ... I should warn you. Being seen with me will get you labeled as an outcast.”

“And now, you’ve intrigued me,” she said with a smile that showed the tiny dimple in her right cheek.

He shook his head, not willing to be the bad boy to some good girl gone wrong. “I should also mention, I don’t like people.”

“Oh, you’ll like me, I promise.” She sank onto the seat beside him and set down her pad. “You like comics?”

He blinked, trying to keep up with her crazy topic jumps. “Yeah.”

She opened her page. “Me too.

The impressive comic strip of Wolverine made him whistle. “You did

this?”

“Yeah, need to work on my shading in certain areas. Which is why your work caught my eye.”

So, it’d been a self-serving thing. That he could understand. “Your detail is on point. I could use some pointers.”

“Then I’ll help you and you can help me,” she offered.

“Deal.”

He had no way of knowing it was the start of a lifelong relationship that would in many ways define him as a man.

PRESENT

AIBHLINN

After they returned from Ault Park, Aibhlinn studied Enzo from beneath her lashes. He seemed more sullen this year than he had previously. “What’s wrong?” she asked, setting his bowl of steel cut oats and toast in front of him.

“You know I hate my birthday,” Enzo replied, and pushed the oats around with his spoon like a petulant child.

His pouty expression was adorable. She tried not to smile at the picture he presented. It was all too easy to imagine what little Enzo looked like once upon a time. “No, this feels like more than that,” she said, frowning.

He glanced up at her and sighed. “We’re getting old.”

She snorted. “Speak for yourself, grandpa. We’ve barely hit our thirties.”

“Yeah, but you know how fast time flies. We’ll blink, and it’ll be our forties.”

“So?” she asked, shaking her head.

He shrugged. “Makes a person wonder what their contribution to the world is, or why they were brought here in the first place.”

“What about Jinx Tattoos? You guys are taking names and kicking ass. You just did an interview with the local paper. That’s not something a mediocre shop does,” she said.

“Yeah, I mean, business wise I’m doing okay, just ...”

“Ahh, so we’re talking about an ailment of a spiritual nature, then?”


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