Ask Me If I Care (SWAT Generation 2.0 4)

But it was a start.

Avery was a beautiful person, and I didn’t think that she deserved the lot that she got in life.

“Thank you, Toomey,” I said, smiling at him.

Toomey’s eyes went dark with anger all over again, and I nearly rolled my eyes.

In the next instant, he was gone, nearly barreling into the very girl that we were just talking about.

Avery had her camera in front of her, and she was directing Hayes, who was glaring hard at Toomey, to where she wanted him to stand.

“Right there in front of that blank wall,” Avery instructed. “Bonus points if you want to take your shirt off!”

Hayes stood stoically in front of the wall, then stared blankly at Avery.

I covered my mouth with my hand and snickered, causing Hayes to direct his intense gaze toward me.

I waved. “Hi, Hayes!”

His eye twitched.

“You know, a shirtless photo would sell better,” I teased.

He looked away, then put his hands behind his back, making it even more formal of a pose.

I shook my head and leaned back, watching the show.

I opened my dad’s top drawer, letting out a little squeal when I found his stash of M&M’s and pulled them out, practically dumping half the bag onto the top of his desk. Then, one by one, I ate the reds then the blues, followed by the yellows and the browns, saving my favorites for last.

The greens and the oranges, which I ate together.

All the while I kept my eyes on the prize. Or, at least, Hayes.

I wasn’t sure what drew me to him, or why I wanted to look at him at all since he seemed so freakin’ scary to me.

Whatever the reason for my infatuation—because I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since the banquet the night before—my interest was piqued. So I continued to watch him even though I knew it was ticking him off.

When he left, I didn’t miss the look of annoyance he shot my way.

“Hi, Ms. Downy.” Avery waved.

I grinned. “Hello, Avery! And you can call me Ares!”

Avery laughed her way down the hallway, leaving me there to finish off my greens and oranges.

I was finishing off my last two when my dad finally showed back up.

His eyes narrowed on the two pieces of candy on the desk. “You better not have eaten my whole stash.”

I tossed the bag underneath the desk and kicked it with my foot.

“Never.”

***

An hour later I found myself at the fairgrounds.

“This is absolutely fucking nuts,” I said to my dad as I saw all the people. “Why are they all here?”

“There’s gonna be free food.”

I looked over at my father and stared at him in surprise.

“There is?” I said.

He nodded once. “That’s why all of them are here. For the free food.”

I gritted my teeth.

Today was the fall fest for kids that my father’s police department put on every year.

Every. Single. Year.

And this was the first year that I’d been helping that it’d ever looked like this.

“Hot dogs.” He answered my next question before I’d even asked it. “That’s what we’re giving. One to each person.”

“What if you run out?” I asked, staring at the crowd.

“It said until supplies last.” Dad shrugged.

I just shook my head, unable to comprehend.

“I’m only staying an hour,” he said. “I assume that’s when all the hot dogs will be gone and everyone will either leave or put up some cash for their kids to play the games. And since it’s your mother’s birthday, I’m not staying very long. So go do what you’re gonna do, and I’ll go smile and shit.”

I snickered as my dad pulled away and left me standing in the middle of the road.

He was stressed out as hell, and I couldn’t figure out why.

I mean sure, today was my mother’s birthday, but she still had at least two more hours until she was off of work.

Deciding that worrying about it wouldn’t help, I took a look around to find where I needed to go.

Just as I was about to head in the direction to help serve hot dogs, a little boy that was no older than two fell over and spilled his entire bucket of candy right in front of me. Then he promptly burst out crying. The balloons that he was wearing around his wrist nearly flew away, but I caught them just in time, looping them around my own wrist.

I walked over to him instantly.

“Oh, no,” I said as I helped him pick it up. “Let me help you.”

The little boy gave me the saddest eyes that there were ever to be had.

I put the last of his candy, and a little bit of grass, into his bucket and smiled. “All better.”

His little lip quivered, and I looked at his outfit, wondering what his parents were thinking.

He was in a dirty shirt, even dirtier jeans that were about three inches too short for his chubby little legs, and a mullet.