Rocked (The Everyday Heroes World) - Julia Wolf Page 0,8
me with big brown eyes. This kid didn’t look much like her parents, from what I recalled. She was a carrot top, where her mom had been fair and her dad dark. She struck me as kind of nerdy, with the glasses and fanny pack with some type of anime characters imprinted on it around her waist—but hey, who was I to judge? I knew nothing about kids. I couldn’t even tell how old this one was. She could have been anywhere from eight to fifteen.
“You destroyed our mailbox, you know.” She blinked her dark eyes at me as she pet her dog’s side.
“Sorry about that.” I rubbed the back of my neck, ready to remove myself from this conversation. “Tell your dad I’ll pay for a new one.”
She cocked her head. “Why would I tell my dad that? It’s not his mailbox.”
My brow pinched. I didn’t care whose mailbox it was. I’d Venmo some cash and be done with it. I hadn’t intended on making friends with the neighbors. Hell, I hadn’t even intended on speaking to them. And now I had a little kid and her dog in my yard with no idea how to get out of it.
“I don’t know, kid. Tell your mom then.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I will, but Mom said she’s going to fix ours tomorrow after her shift. You should probably help her.”
I snorted. “Right. I’ll be over with my toolbelt and miter saw.”
“I know sarcasm when I hear it. Don’t worry, Mom has tools. You could carry the heavy stuff for her. It’s probably the least you could do, considering you almost ran me over.”
Damn, guilted by a little kid.
“What are you, seven?”
Her hand flew up. “First of all, no. I know I’m short, but I am not seven. I’m twelve, almost thirteen, and in seventh grade.”
I had to chuckle. “Fine, sorry I offended you. Tell your mom I’ll pay for her supplies or whatever. I really am sorry for almost running you over.”
She nodded sharply. “You should be.” Standing from the ground, she brushed dirt from her jeans and clapped her hands, telling Leroy to get up. He was slower to rise, but he eventually complied. “By the way, if you’re looking for pancakes, Bertha’s Cafe is the best place in town. Mom and I go there every Sunday she’s not working, and I usually convince my dad to take me once a week too. They rarely let me eat at restaurants since I have so many food allergies, but Bertha’s is safe. So, if you have food allergies, that’s probably useful info.”
By the end of her monologue, I was standing too. “I don’t, but thanks for letting me know. That’s pretty considerate of you.”
She shrugged. “I’m Ellie, by the way. My mom’s Kat. She’s nicer than she seems, and I really do suggest you help her with the mailbox.”
The kid stuck her hand out, and I had no choice but to shake it. “I’m Devon, and I’ll take your suggestion under consideration.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, I know who you are, Devon Chambers.”
I laughed at how accusatory she sounded, like my identity was a crime. Then again, if she’d googled me, she’d probably read some mighty big doozies. My past was pretty damn colorful.
“You a fan?” I asked.
Her lips puckered like she tasted something sour. Yeah, I kind of felt the same about my career these days.
“Sure,” she said.
A laugh burst out of me. “Didn’t your mama teach you not to lie?”
Her hands went to her hips. “Didn’t your mama teach you about not hurting someone’s feelings?”
I laughed again. “I’m picking up what you’re putting down, little sis. Not a fan of the ol’ rock ‘n’ roll, eh?”
She looked me dead in the eye. “I didn’t say that.”
“Well, uh…” I glanced around, ready to exit stage right. My ego had taken enough of a beating for one day. “I got some shit...errr, stuff to do, so…”
Ellie heaved an annoyed sigh. “I’ll see you later, Devon. My dad should be here to pick me up for the weekend soon. Don’t forget to help my mom tomorrow!” Ellie and Leroy went back the way they came, leaving me in a daze in my yard. Hopefully that little visit was a one-time thing. I didn’t know how much more polite conversation I was capable of having with a twelve-year-old.
I’d just sat down with a cup of coffee and my guitar on my front porch when the noise started. Banging, a high-pitch squealing, followed by