Chapter 30
“You look well-rested,” Mel said to Denny as they practically bounced into the car and buckled their seatbelt.
Mel wished they could feel the same. After a disappointing call with the police, where they’d told them what Liam said about his foster brothers, with little enthusiasm from them, they hadn’t slept very well.
Sonia trailed behind them, not looking nearly as full of energy. She hadn’t even taken her book out yet.
“Nope. I couldn’t sleep at all,” Denny said. “I actually got to spend time with actual baseball players. Nothing Mom could say could bring me down after that. Rhys said he’d teach me more about catching if you let him come back to the center.”
“As long as he fills out a background check and it’s good, he can volunteer. I certainly wouldn’t stop him.”
“Good. Maybe if I get good enough, mom won’t be able to say no to me joining the team next year.”
Mel bit down on their lip, not wanting to dash their sibling’s hopes. If their mother excelled at one thing, other than academic research, it was telling her children no to anything she didn’t see value in. Mel didn’t expect that to change anytime soon.
When they reached the coffee shop, Mel unlocked the back door and started flipping on lights. “Can I have some coffee?” Denny asked.
Mel eyed them. “Did you already have some before leaving the house?” They had a lot of energy for not sleeping the night before.
“There is no coffee in the house,” Denny groaned.
“Mom’s on another health kick,” Sonia said. “She says the best focus is a natural focus.”
I need caffeine, Mel,” Denny whined.
They started up the machines and grabbed two cups. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.” They made a couple low strength drinks for the twins and then got back to opening up for the day. Soon, they were busy with customers, which didn’t leave them time to think of much else.
Until he stepped into the coffee shop a few hours later. The day before blew right back in. The way he’d jumped in to help, how he’d talked to Liam. And to Denny.
The way he’d looked at them before he’d left.
You don’t have time or space for a relationship, Mel. It didn’t matter how many times they reminded themself of that, it didn’t stop them from wanting. Too much, they definitely wanted too much. But, maybe they could break off a little piece and nibble on it.
“He’s not a damn cookie,” they muttered.
Frank cast them a look from down the counter, arching an eyebrow. “You need to take a break? You sound hangry there.”
Mel shook their head as Rhys moved further up in line, taking his sunglasses off and hanging them in the front of his shirt. Damn, why did even that turn them on?
It shouldn’t. Mel told themself it should definitely not. He was just a guy, an athlete. Surely he wouldn’t want someone who had no ambition to be more than a barista and to manage the youth center.
That thought stopped them. It wasn’t the way they thought. It was what their mother said. The work at the center fulfilled them, and the coffee shop helped them pay the bills. What else mattered?
Rhys leaned up against the counter. “Long time, no see.”
Mel couldn’t help but laugh as they reached for a cup to make his drink. “Yeah, a whole twelve hours. So long.”
He flashed a grin at them. “Feels like an eternity.”
Mel tried, they really did, to repress their own smile. No need to encourage him. “I was thinking,” they said as they added the fruit syrups to the coffee, “if you wanted updates on Liam, with his permission, I could text you sometimes.”
“Well,” he said, “you do have my number now.” When they blinked at him, he added, “from when I filled out your sheet last night. I put it on there.”
Mel hadn’t considered taking it from the paperwork. It would have felt too much like taking advantage. Crossing a boundary they really shouldn’t. If they had his permission, well, that was different. “So, it would be okay if I texted you sometime.”
“I’ll be waiting with bated breath. Even if it isn’t about Liam.”
The smile was still there, but Mel thought they saw something else behind it. Something softer.
They were probably imagining that. They handed over the coffee, their fingers brushing over his. “Do you have time?” they asked him. “You could join us over at the table…”
He was already shaking his head. “I wish, but I need to get to the clubhouse. If I’m late, Skip will keep me benched even longer.”
“Why haven’t you been playing?” Mel asked. “Denny was worried.”
“Uh huh,” he murmured. "Just Denny?" Then, he shook his head. “It was for my own good, apparently. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
There was something in the way he said that, but Mel couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe the way he wouldn’t meet their eyes now. His phone pinged, and he swore. “I really do need to go.”
“Right.” Mel straightened. They hadn’t realized they’d been leaning against the counter. Closer to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“It’s an early game, so I’ll need the caffeine.”
“Is that the only reason you come in here?”
He smiled at them and slid his sunglasses on before heading out of the coffee shop. Mel sighed. No. Damn it. No sighing over hot guys. Even if they were surprisingly sweet. If they wanted sweet there were plenty of treats to choose from. They didn’t need one that would end up breaking their heart.
“What exactly is this?” Dirk Johnson asked as Mel handed over the papers they’d gathered together.
“Quotes for fixing the broken windows.” Mel’s gaze shifted toward the other directors. “As well as replacing one of the televisions and the microwave for the kitchen.”
“So, you want us to pour more money into this. You said you would take care of everything.”
Mel tried not to grind their teeth. “I said I would take care of whatever cleanup I could. With help from volunteers and the kids who were able to show up, we did a lot. I can’t install windows, though.
You did tell me to let you know what would be left to do,” they added, looking over at Veronica.
Since she was the one who actually said that.
Veronica looked down at the copy she had. “These all seem reasonable to me,” she said. “The windows need to be replaced no matter what.”
“A brand-new television isn’t necessary,” Dirk grumbled.
“I never said it had to be brand new,” Mel said. “I found some quotes on used televisions as well. There is still one, but if you’ve ever been around teens, you know that won’t be enough.”
Mel thought a couple of the directors smiled. But, not Dirk. Of course not him.
“They should stop being entitled and be happy with what they have. There are plenty of others who don’t even have that much.”
Mel bristled. They’d seen photos of the other centers the group funded in the area. Even if they’d been staged to look their best, at least one of them had top of the line equipment. Mel just wanted to give these kids somewhere to go.
Entertainment was part of that. No matter what Dirk seemed to think. “I’ll give you the microwave,” he said, “but I don’t think we can do the television.”
Fine. Mel would take it and find some other way to fund the new television,. They didn’t know how right now, but they would figure it out. “What about hiring–”
“You want us to spend even more money?” Dirk asked, without letting them finish. “If you can’t handle the job yourself, maybe we need to put someone else in charge of the program.”
Someone else who would go along with whatever Dirk wanted.
“I can handle managing the center.” Mel kept their voice as level as possible.
“Which includes making sure they have the resources they need to have a meaningful life. For a lot of the kids who come there that means a counselor that can help–”
“We’ve been over this before,” Dirk said, “If they need professional help, their parents–”
“Can’t always afford it. Or they don’t understand what good a therapist can do, even to someone who isn’t suffering from a mental health crisis.
Do you know what the statistics are for queer youth and mental health?
” Do you care? “How many of them commit suicide? Do you know that number drastically reduces when they have a supportive community around them?”
“I thought that’s what you were doing,” Blaine muttered. “We wouldn’t have approved the program if you hadn’t already shared that sob story once.”
“I can’t do it all myself,” Mel said. “Those kids deserve just as much as any other.”
Dirk opened his mouth, but Veronica spoke first. “Get us actual numbers and research,” she said. “We’ll see if we can find the funding for what you’ll need.”
It was the closest they’d come to getting a yes for this, so they’d have to take it. And put together everything they could to make sure it happened.