Chapter 24

“I am.”

Troy had asked, too. Word of my father’s drunken exploits had already spread through town, apparently, maybe even to Angel and his legal eagle mentors. When Spencer went into the kitchen, Troy asked again.

I shrugged and played with the green bow he’d tied to Holiday Brothers’ already festive box. “All in a day. On a happier note…” I told him about the tenth day of Christmas gift, which represented ninth grade. “Things started to take a turn that year…maybe because of that eighth-grade cake and our vibrating backhoe ride. A particularly warm fall and winter percolated our hormones until they were firing on all cylinders, too. Angels, more than mine. Mine were already at maximum voltage. You got time for a story?”

“As long as it doesn’t put me to sleep.”

“I’ll do my best. Come hop on my time machine, back to one decade ago.”

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