The poor kid was angry and hurt and surging with confusing new testosterone on top of it all. Logan tried to soften his voice. “Yeah. And if you get kicked out of here, you’re stuck with me full time. So hit the books and cut the shit, okay?”
The bluster returned in an instant, and Connor raised his chin. “I’ll go live with my dad in Florida. I’m sick of the cold anyway.”
No, you won’t, because your dad doesn’t give a goddamn about you.
Forcing an even tone, Logan said, “Your mom always talked about what a genius you are. That she knew it from the time you could barely talk.”
Connor’s brows drew together, and he fidgeted with his fingers, shifting from foot to foot. “She… She did?”
“Yep. She was so proud of you, getting a full ride to Rencliffe out of elementary school. She used to smile so big when she talked about you. You know, how her eyes got squinty and her nose would crinkle?”
Connor nodded, biting his lip. Even with the pimples and attitude, he looked like a baby sometimes. Logan wanted to tell him everything would be okay and give him a hug the way kids deserved to be hugged, but the few times he’d awkwardly tried anything like that, it had resulted in Connor shoving him away.
Logan sighed. “I know you hate me. I don’t blame you.” He laughed hollowly. “There’s plenty to hate. But you’ve got a good thing here. They want to help you. So let them. Okay? You can get a B on your exams in your sleep. Stop skipping class and screwing around. Make your mom proud.”
After a few moments, Connor nodded, his jaw tight. He toyed with a plaid scarf hanging around his neck, and Logan eyed it. “Is that the one Jenna gave you at Thanksgiving?” They’d always done one gift for everyone at Thanksgiving in Logan’s family for some reason. He didn’t even know how the tradition had started.
Connor scoffed. “Dunno. I guess.” He whipped it off and stuffed it in his uniform jacket pocket. “I was cold.”
“She says hi, by the way.”
“Whatever. Tell her hi back.” He shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Okay. I’ll see you at the end of next week when school gets out.” Assuming you don’t get expelled in the meantime. Logan could only pray he’d somehow land a job so he could afford rent and food and maybe a few presents for the kid. If there was ever a time for a Christmas miracle, it was now.
Connor rolled his eyes. “Can’t wait.”
Ms. Patel appeared before Logan had to think of anything else to say. She smiled warmly. “Connor, are you up for a talk before you go back to class?”
Thank Christ the kid nodded and followed her out. Logan gave her a tight smile and made his way back through the main building and out to the parking lot. The birds still chirped, the sun peeking out from steel clouds. His phone buzzed, and this time there was a text message from Mrs. Politano:
Without rent I can’t eat. Time’s up. Changing the locks in two days, so get your stuff out.
Logan tasted bile. That was a definite no-go on the holiday miracle. He climbed behind the wheel of his baby sister’s shiny SUV and tried not to cry like the pathetic, useless sack of shit he was.
Chapter Two
When the staff email hit his inbox, Seth rolled his eyes at the all-caps “URGENT!” in the subject line and went back to his spreadsheet. To the receptionist/office manager, everything was URGENT!, including—but not limited to—running out of mochaccino coffee pods in the break room too quickly, overusing staples, and the minimum length of shorts on casual Fridays in summer (eleven-and-a-half-inch inseam).
At her desk a few feet away in their pod, Jenna gasped. “She’s here! Oh my God.”
“Hmm?” Seth glanced over as Jenna whirled around on her chair, her hand catching a garland and sending a bright pink ornament rolling across her desk.
Jenna’s side of the pod was an explosion of life and holiday cheer. After Thanksgiving, she’d strung colored fairy lights over the top of her monitor, and sparkly red garlands snaked between framed family photographs on both sides of her desk, ornaments nestled throughout.
Seth had no such photos since he had no family at all—at least not any who would actually talk to him. The jagged edges of that particular pain had dulled after twelve years, but as another lonely Christmas approached, he had to force away the memories more than usual.
Jenna hissed, “Angela Barker is here!”
His heart skipped. “Wait, what? Why?”
“Surprise visit.” Jenna pressed a hand to her chest. “What if they’re doing a re-org? But the CEO wouldn’t be the one to come and fire people. Right?”
“They promised our positions were safe when BRK bought us out.” His stomach dropped. He’d moved to Albany. He’d bought a house. He’d been dumped by his boyfriend—was his job next? “They promised,” he repeated weakly. Of course, everyone knew what a corporate promise was worth these days.