Playing the Player(57)

Alex tapped his forehead with his finger. “Paging through years of memories. Lots of girls. Lots of hookups. Yet not one memory of you helping out a pixie chick. On the wrong side of town. Just because.”

We were both silent as we parked in front of the ancient house with a hand-lettered sign out front: Redemption Women’s Shelter. Lives saved, one day at a time.

Trash littered most of the block, but the grass in the tiny yard in front of the shelter was green, not brown. A few straggly flowers wilted over the sides of a yellow planter on the crumbling front steps.

Alex sighed next to me. “Have you ever volunteered anywhere before? Ever been in a place like this?”

I turned off the car and glared at him, annoyed. “You think I can’t handle it?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course you can handle it. It’s just…these places can be really sad.”

“You’ve been here before?” I was surprised.

“Not here, but another shelter. For runaways. Most of them rejected by their families because they’re gay.”

Damn. I didn’t know what to say to that.

“Wow,” I finally said. “I didn’t know.”

Alex shrugged. “Yeah. I go there a few nights a month, in case they want to talk to someone. Sometimes they do. Sometimes not.”

I nodded, still not sure what to say. Ever since I’d gotten Trina’s texted plea for help, interrupting me during 10 Things I Hate About You, my day had been full of surprises.

Was I the only loser not trying to save the world? I grimaced as I jerked the key out of the ignition. “Let’s go.”

I got out and slammed the car door. Alex knocked against my shoulder as we walked up the crumbling sidewalk. “Did I piss you off?”

I kicked at some loose gravel. “Not really.” If I was pissed at anyone, it was myself.

Bars covered all the windows, and a security door barred easy entry. A handwritten sign told us to buzz, so I did.

“Yes?” Trina’s voice was recognizable, even over the crummy old speaker mounted next to the door.

I spoke into it. “It’s your knight in shining armor. With his trusty sidekick.”

Alex waggled his eyebrows at me. “What was that you said about not falling in—”

“I’m just kidding around with her. It’s what we do.”

His eyebrows shot up even higher. “You and Bird Brain going on Comedy Central together?”

“Shut up. And don’t call her Bird B—” The door swung open before I could finish my sentence.

Trina wore a red tank top and torn denim shorts—the same thing she’d worn to Putt-Putt golf, when I’d suddenly seen her in a whole new way. Uh oh. I tried not to stare at her legs. But that meant I had to look at her face. And her lips.

She unlocked the door and held it open for us, smiling nervously. “Thank you so much.” Her eyes darted from me to Alex and back to me again. “Both of you. This is such a huge help.”

Alex grinned. “We aim to serve, madam. Take us to the heavy lifting.”

“This way,” Trina said, leading us through a dining room with an ancient table and chairs and to a steep staircase. “The bad news is the beds are in the attic, and we need to move them down.” She gave us an apologetic smile. “I was thinking…maybe I can buy you guys dinner when we’re done? To thank you.”

Before I could reply, Alex spoke up. “You don’t need to do that. Besides, I have a date tonight, so I can’t do dinner.” He glanced at me. “How about you, Edmunds? You have plans for tonight?”

I smiled at Trina, who stood a few steps above us on the worn stairs. “I do now,” I said. “Trina’s buying me dinner.”

Even in the dark hallway I saw her blush. I hoped that meant she wanted to spend time with me. She was so hard to read. Maybe one of these days I’d crack the entire code.



Two hours later, I was hot and sweaty, but the beds were set up and Trina looked so happy I could hardly take my eyes off her. Was this what it took to make her smile? Do a good deed? Wrestle and joke around with Alex and make her laugh? Maybe I needed to change my strategy.

“You two are my heroes.” Sharon leaned against a wall, wiping her face with a bandana. She and Trina had moved the boxes and smaller furniture out of the room to make space for the beds.

“We aim to please, ma’am,” Alex joked, flexing his biceps.

Trina rolled her eyes, and then smiled at me. I returned it and held her gaze. She didn’t look away.

“So.” Alex’s voice was loud enough that Trina and I broke our stare to look at him. “If we’re done here, I kind of need to get going.”