Page 40
Which is difficult when my instructor seems determined to look straight through me.
When I pull into my driveway, I wave at Theo, who’s kicking a soccer ball around in his front yard. Levi must have picked him up on time today.
A small victory.
Theo comes darting over with a big grin. “Levi picked me up right on time!” he announces proudly. “Then we played ball, but I hit him in his shoulder and he got really angry.”
“Oh no. Are you okay?”
Theo nods, but his usual bright energy dims. “Levi isn’t. He’s bleeding. We don’t have any bandages left.”
I sigh quietly.
Of course they don’t.
I should mind my own business. Levi’s a grown man. A stubborn, difficult one at that. He’s been nothing but trouble since the day he moved in, and helping him feels far too much like encouraging him.
But then I look at Theo’s worried little face, and something softens in my chest. The least I can do is make sure his shoulder doesn’t get infected, especially since Levi is probably too proud or too disorganized to deal with it himself. Besides, I’m the one who suggested he play ball with Theo in the first place.
“Can you go get him for me?” I ask.
Theo nods and dashes back inside. A minute later, Levi appears in the doorway, Theo trailing nervously behind him. A dark bloom of red has soaked through the shoulder of his white T-shirt.
“Carmen,” Levi says. “Time for my daily critique already?”
I ignore him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah?” He shrugs with one arm.
I can’t help it. I laugh.
“You’re bleeding,” I say, gesturing at his shirt.
“Oh. That.” He glances down like he’s only just noticed. “Looks worse than it is.”
“Do you want me to patch it up?” I gesture toward my house.
“You’re going to let me inside?” Levi asks, sounding far too pleased with himself.
“Unless you want me to patch you up on the porch, I guess so.”
He follows me to the door. I hesitate for half a second, then let him in. He toes off his boots at the threshold and steps inside, his gaze sweeping across my living room. “Nice place.”
“Don’t get comfortable,” I say.
He glances around, then starts, “Where’s the ra—” He catches himself. “…the dog?”
“Fifi. She’s napping.”
The rescue guy wasn’t wrong. I get about four good hours out of her a day, and the rest of the time she sleeps. Aside from all the medications, she’s actually quite low maintenance after all.
I lead Levi to the dining table and pull out a chair. “Sit.”
He lowers himself with a barely concealed wince.
I place my bag and school books on the table, then head to the kitchen for my first aid box. When I return, he’s staring at my books.
“Take your shirt off,” I say.
