3

I pull up to Christine’s mansion-sized house, pushing my idea to the back of my mind for now. I quickly park, grab my school bag and some supplies I already had in the car, and walk up her grand staircase.

“Hey Kisses, come in,” she says, opening the door and pulling me inside.

“You have a beautiful house, Christine. What do your parents do?” I ask, honestly curious. The house is ten times bigger on the inside—I didn’t even think that was possible.

“My mother owns a fashion line called Brittney’s Fashion Co. and my father is a doctor,” she says with a shrug.

“Can I live here? I bet you have an extra room,” I joke, but there’s some seriousness behind it.

“Oh yeah, totally,” she says giggling as we sit down at the kitchen table.

“Hello, you must be Kisses. I’m Martha. Would you two like anything to eat or drink?” a woman says, wearing an apron.

“Martha, my parents aren’t home. Go watch TV or something. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a cook right now,” Christine says, laughing.

My mouth drops open before I quickly close it. She has a freaking personal cook?

Shit—I have to text my dad.

Me: Hi, Father. I’m working on a school project with a friend. I’ll be home later tonight.

Father: You lying bitch. 13

I don’t respond. Instead, Christine and I work on the project for the rest of the time, occasionally talking about random things. I always thought Christine was kind of snotty, but she’s really not.

“You know, Kisses, I had a lot of fun. I’m glad we got the project done. Sit with me tomorrow at lunch—and maybe we can keep in touch,” she says.

I nod, smiling. “I’d really like that. Bye, Martha,” I wave to her, now sitting on the couch watching Housewives. I guess we all have our guilty pleasures.

I leave the house and check my phone—no notifications, which makes me smile.

I make my way to Starbucks. I guess you could call me a “white girl,” but truth is, I work here. Which means I’ve grown used to—and actually fond of—the coffee and drinks.

“Funny seeing you here. Catherine said you weren’t going to be in today,” Cody says, smiling when he sees me.

“Miss me?” I ask, smugly, as I put my apron on and walk behind the counter.

Catherine gave me today off, but since we finished the project earlier than expected and I have no desire to go home, work it is.

“You wish,” Cody says, nudging me, and I laugh.

Cody and I are always working together, so we talk all the time. Might as well make the best of it. He’s in college now, working for some extra cash.

“Hey Kisses, how are you?” someone says, and I turn to see Catherine standing there, giving me a skeptical look.

“I’m sorry, Catherine,” I say, rushing out the words, but she interrupts me.

“I don’t care—just let me know next time when you’re working so I can pay you,” she laughs, and I nod, apologizing again.

“Ooh, Ms. Kisses got in trouble,” Cody says, poking my cheek.

I slap his hand away, giggling—until someone clears their throat.

I turn to see, of course, Daniel and Kylie Green.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Hey Daniel, Kylie,” I say, smiling at them. Daniel gives me a fake smile, looking a little hurt. I push it aside—and then my idea pops back into my head.

“Do you like dogs?” I blurt out accidentally.

“Um… yeah? Why?” Daniel asks, confused.

“I’ve wanted one for years,” Kylie says excitedly, causing me to smile.

“I’ll tell you guys later. My shift ends in an hour. Wait for me—I’ll pay for your drinks,” I say, and they nod and order.

As the end of my shift approaches, I grow more nervous that my question might sound too pushy.

I quickly make myself a Strawberry Refresher and pay for their drinks. I walk over to them, my nerves kicking in again.

“Alright, so what’s all this about?” Daniel asks.

“So… um. I don’t want to sound pushy. This is just a suggestion, and I don’t know if it would even work out. But there’s this dog at the shelter I volunteer at. She’s scared of everyone but me. We’ve got similar histories. I’m not allowed to have her because my parents hate animals. So… I was wondering if you could come meet her tomorrow and maybe let her stay at your place during the day. I’ll pay for everything and even give you guys rides to school when I drop her off in the mornings. Her name is Porsha.”

Kylie’s face lights up while Daniel smiles.

“Dan, please?” Kylie says, turning to him. He nods.

“Alright. I’ll ask Mom and Dad tonight and let you know by tomorrow morning,” Daniel says.

A huge smile spreads across my face. “Thank you, guys,” I say, hugging them. They laugh and hug me back.

I glance at my phone—it’s only 6 p.m. I still have time before 9. I should probably go home so my dad sees me. Unfortunately.

“Do you need a ride home?” Kylie asks, tossing her cup in the trash.

“Um, no. I’m just going to hang out here for a while. Thank you, though,” I say, smiling and ignoring Daniel’s questioning look.

“Alright. I’ll talk to you later, Kisses,” Daniel says with a smile, and I return it as they leave.

I do my homework quickly and head home around 7:30.

On the way, I stop to buy my parents their favorite ice cream—hopefully it’ll make up for not being home earlier.

I pull into the driveway, unplug my phone, and grab my bag and the ice cream. All the lights in the house are on. Nothing new.

As soon as I step inside and close the door, I hear it:

“The bitch is finally home,” my mother mutters.

“What’s in the bag?” my father asks.

I hand them the ice cream and two spoons.

“Hmm, smart girl. But obviously not smart enough,” my mother says, taking a swig from her beer. I cringe.

Then her hand hits my cheek—hard. My eyes sting, tears threatening to fall.

Son of a bitch. She’s gotten stronger.

I wasn’t expecting that.

“Any plans for tomorrow?” my father asks, shoveling ice cream into his mouth.

“Um… just the usual. Work and stuff,” I say nervously.

“Good,” my mother says, standing up and heading to the bathroom—but not before kicking my legs out from under me.

I hit the floor, breath knocked out of me.

My father takes advantage of the moment and kicks me just below the ribs. I wince in pain.

“Now, get out of my face,” he growls.

I scramble to my feet, grab my bag, and run upstairs, every breath a stabbing ache.

That’s going to leave a mark… a big one.

My phone pings. A text from Daniel.

Daniel: Good news! My parents love the idea of getting a dog. Bad news: it has to be small.

Me: Perfect. She’s a shih tzu. Very small dog.

Daniel: Alright. When can we see this angel?

Me: Tomorrow. After school or after my shift—either works.

Daniel: Sounds good. We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodnight, Kisses.

Me: Night, Daniel.

I might feel like I have a broken rib… but I’m not giving up the chance to see my favorite puppy and maybe even adopt her.

Tomorrow’s going to be a good day.