12. Invisible Bond

12

Invisible Bond

Alice

"Sorry you guys have to come with me," Lola says, rolling her eyes as we approach the area of Central Park that's cordoned off for the concert. "I can't do anything by myself. Even on my birthday."

Frankly, I don't think Deacon's boundaries are unreasonable. If I had kids, there would be absolutely no way I'd let them come to Central Park at night for a free concert. Even if there is security, it's way too wild for a teenage crowd.

After showing our bags to the security officers, we enter the concert area. It seems like the entire city is crammed into one tight space, which is probably the case. Thankfully, it's not raining today, and it's even warm—the perfect weather to start off Spring Break.

Lola keeps looking around, trying to find her friends. "I can't even DM them because I don't have social media. Or a phone."

Emma winces. "Your uncle's tough. I wouldn't have lasted long under his care," she jokes. "Though I probably wouldn't have listened to him."

"Emz!" I swat her arm. Last thing I need is for Emma to turn sweet Lola into some kind of rebel.

"Ah, there they are!" Lola exclaims, hurrying toward a group of girls. They turn around, and I don't like the looks on their faces when they smile at Lola. It seems a little too much like the look Regina George sports in Mean Girls when she tells Cady she likes her bracelet.

Lola introduces us to Stephanie, Brianna, and Khloe, who are all in her class. They're dressed up like mini adults, with short skirts, crop tops, and way too much makeup. They all have their phones out, and I notice they're on Instagram .

I'm not exactly sure why Lola is friends with them, but I was pretty unpopular at school as a flat-chested nerd, so I understand the need to fit in.

Emma's scrunched face tells she has a similar opinion of the clique, but she doesn't say anything, instead slipping away to get us all some drinks.

"What an interesting jacket," a girl named Stephanie says to Lola with a smile that can only be described as forced. Or Regina-like.

"Thanks." Lola's smile is bright and definitely not fake. "It was my mom's."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," Stephanie says before sneaking a glance at her two friends, who chuckle quietly.

I don't know if Lola didn't catch that, or if she just chose to ignore it, but all my alarms just went off. I listen carefully to the rest of the conversation, but it seems to have settled back into a normal teenage discussion.

The show is about to start, so we walk closer to the stage. The atmosphere is even stuffier now with so many people crowded around us, and Lola is beaming, chatting with her friends. Then, I notice the girls giggling and pointing off to the side. Following their gaze, I land on a group of guys around their age.

"Uh-oh," Emma says with a light chuckle. "I spy a high-school crush. "

"Oh, yeah." I sigh. "I miss those times."

"Really?" She quirks an eyebrow. "I hated high school, and teenage crushes are the worst."

"Wait." I wheel around to face her. "Did you have a crush in high school?"

She crosses her arms over her chest, her eyebrows raised.

"Oh my gosh. I would have never guessed." It's so weird to imagine the hardened Emma as a carefree teenager whose only concern was getting a boy's attention. But then again, that was before her life completely shifted.

"Not my finest hour."

"What happened?" I ask, sipping my diet coke.

She looks down. "He moved away."

"Oh, crap. Well, mine didn't even know I existed, so . . ."

"Ugh. Men are jerks at every age," she growls, shaking her head. "Maybe they only reach maturity when they're older, like forty."

"Mm," I say. And of course, I'm daydreaming about Deacon again. I don't think he's forty, but he does seem more mature than most men I've dated. Or at least more interesting.

When the guys notice Lola and their friends, they come over to talk to them. We watch them interact, but we don't intervene. Even if we're not her parents, I know she'd be mortified if we even just said hi.

Stephanie seems to really like one of the guys, but Brianna is less subtle. She already has her tongue down another one's throat. Lola glances at the one sporting a skater look and wearing a beanie. He seems like the quiet one of the group, and like Lola, he kind of clashes next to his friends.

Soon, the concert starts, and everyone's attention focuses on the stage.

Jack Rose steps out, belting out his first song, and I must say I'm impressed. I was never much of a fan, but the music is pretty good, and the dancers and light effects tie the show together neatly.

"New York!" Jack Rose says into the microphone after his first set as he grabs his guitar.

Cheers and screams ripple through the crowd.

"This city will always hold a special place in my heart," he says, sitting down on a stool before adjusting the height of the microphone stand. "It's where I met my wife."

The cheering intensifies, and I'm pretty sure my left eardrum is now ruptured. Jack glances to the side of the stage. "L, this is for you."

Lola, her friends, and every other girl in the crowd are swooning big time. And I must say, the guy's got moves. His hit song Only Girl starts playing, and everyone sings along.

The concert continues with a mix of ballads and upbeat songs. Emma and I dance, singing the lyrics we know and making up the ones we don't—which earns us a few backward glares from Lola's friends—and overall have a good time.

Lola seems to be enjoying herself too, bumping shoulders with that skater kid and jumping up and down with Khloe.

The concert eventually ends, but the little group stays in place, talking.

"So, are you coming to my party tomorrow night, Lola?" Brianna asks while examining her way-too-long nails. "Or are you still on lockdown?"

Lola's cheeks redden. "Um."

Stephanie laughs. "Please, there's no way. He doesn't let her do anything . You know, your mom was a pain in the ass, but her brother is even worse.

"Right," Brianna snorts. "Sucks to be an orphan."

My blood boils in my veins, and just as I'm taking a step forward to put a stop to this, Lola punches Brianna right in the face. I blink back, stunned. Looks like she takes after her uncle after all .

There's a general "Oh!" around us, and a small crowd gathers. I hurry to Lola's side, putting my arms around her as tears well in her eyes.

Brianna and her friends curse at Lola while the guys just look on, amazed by the scene unfolding in front of them.

"Oh, hell no," Emma says before grabbing Brianna by her slim top. "Listen to me, you little f—"

"Emma!" I yell, grabbing her by the shirt.

She swings around. "What?"

I give her an insistent look, then focus on Lola, who's about to have a full breakdown. "Let's just go."

Nodding, Emma throws one last death stare at Brianna before turning around, ignoring the sneers plastered on the girls' faces as we start walking.

Hold on. Not so fast.

"Lola, Emz," I say. "Keep walking."

Emma frowns, but my tone leaves no room for argument.

I march back to the clique of girls and level them with a stare. "Enjoy it while it lasts. This mean-girl thing you've got going on, it'll get old fast, and one day, when you least expect it, you'll get hit by a school bus."

They stare at me with wide eyes.

"It's called karma. "

With that, I turn on my heel, catching the expression on Skater Boy's face, looking like he just lost his favorite beanie.

I hurry to join Emma and Lola and find them waiting under a tree by the entrance. Lola peers over my shoulders, probably hoping to catch a glimpse of her so-called friends. "What did you say to them?"

"Nothing. Just promise me you won't hang out with them again. They're not your friends."

She sighs, her gaze falling. "I know. I just thought . . . Never mind. It's dumb."

"It's because of that boy, right?" I say, and Emma nods.

"The one with the beanie," she adds.

Lola swallows hard. "Yeah. His name is Leo. He's not like them, and I thought if I hung out with the girls, he'd notice me since he's friends with Jason, who's dating Brianna."

"Oh, honey," I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to be friends with anyone for a guy to notice you. Plus, Leo clearly doesn't need any convincing. He couldn't keep his eyes off you."

Her eyes widen. "Really?"

"Oh, absolutely," Emma says, smiling. "And out of all of them, he didn't seem that bad. But those girls? Nuh-uh. They're bad news. "

"I know," Lola says, shaking her head. "They don't even read."

"Ew!" Emma and I say at the same time, and Lola bursts into laughter.

"Should us bookish girls get an ice cream before heading home?" Emma asks, cocking her head to the side. "We're celebrating a birthday, after all."

I glance at Lola, and her smile widens. "Ice cream it is."

We worm ourselves out of the park and onto the street, following Lola to an ice cream shop she knows, not far from the Lincoln Center.

We each order a decadent sundae before sitting down at a table in front of the window. I grab the candle and lighter I was carrying in my purse, placing the candle on top of Lola's ice cream.

Lola beams as we start singing Happy Birthday, and the entire shop sings along. We all clap, and she blows out her candle. Then, Emma whips out her phone and snaps some selfies of us as a memory.

We start eating our ice cream when suddenly, Lola chokes out a sob next to me. "What's going on?" I ask, panic rising in my throat.

Emma brushes her hair while I pat her back .

"It's nothing," Lola sniffles. "Thank you for tonight. You're so nice. I'm sure you have better things to do than hang out with a teenager."

"Pff." Emma swats a hand through the air. "No we don't. You're the coolest girl we know."

My smile is sincere. "Absolutely."

Lola laughs, wiping her tears. "Thank you. I just really miss my mom right now."

My heart breaks for her. I know how difficult it is, spending her first birthday without her.

"The two of us used to come here all the time when she worked at the center. She was a dancer, just like I'm going to be."

"I'm sure she's really proud of you," I say, squeezing her hand. "I bet she's looking down on you and seeing what an amazing young woman you're becoming."

"You think?" she mumbles, her gaze falling to her ice cream. "I did punch someone today."

Emma breathes out a laugh. "That doesn't count. She deserved it."

Then, we all burst into laughter.

"Can we not mention that to my uncle?" Lola winces. "He already doesn't let me do anything. If he hears about this, he might put prison bars on my windows. "

I press my lips not to laugh. "I think we can keep it between us. But he might surprise you. He's not that bad. He just worries about you."

Lola sighs. "Yeah, I know. Having a kid wasn't exactly his lifelong dream, so he doesn't really know what to do with a teenager who was just thrust into his life. I think he feels stuck with me."

"That's not true," I say with a shake of my head. "Deacon loves you. He's just a man, and men have a harder time expressing their feelings." I wink. "You'll learn that with time."

"I guess," she says, eating another scoop of her ice cream. "I just wish my life was different, and I didn't have to live with him. That I still had my mom, and life wasn't so messed up."

"Your life isn't messed up," I say, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "It's tough. There's a difference. Losing a parent is like losing a piece of yourself, but you'll come out stronger because of it. That may be hard to understand right now, but trust me. Your mom would want you to live your best life."

"Really?" She swallows. "That's what happened with you?"

"It is." I glance at Emma.

"And with me," she says, shaking her black fringe. "I lost both my parents when I was seventeen. And look at me now—one tough cookie."

Lola looks between us for a second, and it's like an invisible bond just linked the three of us. I wasn't kidding. Losing a parent definitely feels like losing a piece of yourself. But sometimes, the right friends can help fill that void. And those bonds are unbreakable.

"Plus, if you didn't live with your uncle, you wouldn't have met us," Emma says with a wink. And with that, Lola gets up from her seat and wraps us in the biggest hug she can manage.

"Thank you again for tonight," Lola says, her eyes glassy as we approach our joint building, where several people are standing out front, talking and laughing. "It was the best birthday I could have ever hoped for."

"You're welcome," Emma says, bumping her shoulder.

We reach the bar, and its lights illuminate the otherwise-dark street. The place is overflowing with hockey fans and loud music. Immediately, I spot Deacon behind the bar, filling a pint glass with beer .

"I kind of wish Uncle Deacon could have been there," Lola says, mirroring my thoughts. "I give him a hard time, but I guess he's doing his best."

"Well." I glance at my watch. "It's still your birthday, you know."

"Yeah, but he's working, and I can't exactly go into the bar," she says, shaking her head with a sigh. "It's fine. I had a nice time with you."

As she's hugging Emma and me, Deacon notices us and comes to the door.

"Hey," he says, glancing at each of us in turn. "How was your night?"

"Great!" Lola gushes before wrapping her arms around his chest. "Thank you for letting me go."

His resting scowl breaks, and he looks at me. I can only guess what he must be feeling—joy, surprise, relief. He taps his hand on her back, and she pulls away from the embrace. She hugs both Emma and me one more time before saying goodbye and skipping upstairs.

"Thanks," Deacon says, "to both of you. For taking her."

"No problem," Emma replies, squinting at him as if she's trying to decipher a puzzle.

"So, I guess now we're even." I prop a hand on my hip, shooting him a questioning look .

He drapes the towel he's holding over his shoulder. "I guess we are."

"Though, I did take your niece to a concert and treated her to ice cream afterwards. So there might be a slight shift in the balance," I add, a smile teasing at my lips.

He presses his own lips together, and I hate it, because he's only doing it to withhold his smile. "I'm pretty sure murder trumps concert, Frenchie. Looks like you still owe me." His smile finally breaks free, and it's like I just took a shot to the heart.

"See you around, neighbor," I say, spinning to walk away.

"Bye, Frenchie."

"Oh, and Deacon." I turn around. "It's still Lola's birthday for another hour. You should go upstairs and celebrate with her. She'd love that." I rummage through my purse. "Here's a candle and a lighter."

Taking a step toward him, I place the two items in his hand. And as my fingers connect with his skin, that weird electricity thing I only ever read about in books happens. Now I know it's a real thing. The jolt sends tingles down my arm and makes my heart do a somersault.

"Okay," he says after what feels like an eternity.

I remove my hand, and our eyes lock for a split second, until Emma loudly clears her throat .

"Anyway," I say, taking an awkward step back. "Be sure to spend some time with her. Bye."

"Thanks, Frenchie," he says as I'm walking away.

I glance over my shoulder. "By the way, getting you on your niece's good side by making her feel special? That definitely trumps murder."

Then, he does something I never thought possible. He chuckles, loud enough to be mistaken for a full-blown laugh, but still low and rumbling. My body flushes with heat upon hearing the sexy sound, and I wish I could record it to listen to his gravelly chuckle on replay. "Fair enough."

Emma and I walk to our front door, and as soon as we're inside, going up the stairs, she halts on the middle step and swings to face me. "Okay, what the heck was that?"

"Nothing," I say, continuing up the steps.

She lays a hand on my arm to stop me. "That was not nothing. That was you and our neighbor flirting . Like, in a gross, super obvious way."

The light in the staircase might be dim, but I'm pretty sure she can see my face reddening. "It was not. We were just talking."

"Um, tell that to the blush on your cheeks, honey. You were totally flirting with him, and he was flirting back," she says before continuing toward the top of the staircase .

This time, I'm the one who stops her. "Wait, you really think so?"

"The only way it would have been more obvious that he's into you is if he'd grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and kissed you right there in the street."

"Oh."

"And judging by the look on your face," she adds with a chuckle, "I'm guessing you wouldn't have said no."

Another wave of warmth spreads on my cheeks, because she's absolutely right.