Fated

She glances between me and Dace, as though silently asking if I really want to do this in front of him. And while I’d really prefer not to, now that it’s started, I don’t feel like I have much of a choice.
    “I’m not leaving,” I say, noting the look of outrage clearly displayed on her face. “I know you think it’s crazy, but I like it here, and I don’t want to leave. It’s as simple as that.”
    Dace squeezes my hand, his palm warm and sure. But when my gaze meets his, it’s clear he’s way out of his comfort zone, so I tell him to wait in the den.
    Barely making it halfway down the ramp before Jennika says, “He’s gonna have an awfully long wait, ’cause you’re coming with me.”
    I sigh long and deep. Stare down at my feet. Arguing won’t get me anywhere. If I want to be heard, I’ll have to tread softly. Careful to keep my voice tempered, I say, “Jennika, what do you have against this place?”
    She scowls, sweeps her arm wide, saying, “Isn’t it obvious? I want better for you than some dump of a town and a cute boy with no future.” She places her hand on her hip, clenches her jaw, and I struggle to remind myself that she truly means well, only wants the best for me, even though she’s not always sure what that is.
    “But what if I like it here?” I lift my shoulders, fiddle with the torn hem of my jacket. “What if this dump of a town feels like home? What if I’m not even looking to that cute boy to provide my future—what if I’m perfectly capable of providing my own? What if I just want to see what it’s like to have a real home, a real family, real friends, and yeah, even a boyfriend? And what if this place can provide a sincere shot at all of those things—would you really deny me? Would you really insist on taking me to L.A. just because it feels better to you?” I suck in my breath, confident I lodged a good case, though Jennika’s not easily swayed.
    “You can have all those things in L.A.! And trust me, it’s a much better, much nicer environment than this place could ever be. You just need to give it a chance, that’s all.”
    “Or maybe you need to give me a chance,” I say, my words silencing her. “Why can’t you just give me this? One year of high school. If I blow it, fail, start getting in trouble, you’ll have every right to yank me, and there’ll be nothing I can do about it. But first, why can’t you just give me a chance to see how I do?”
    “Because you’re not Paloma’s responsibility, you’re my responsibility!” she cries.
    “But you can visit anytime—it’s not like it’s far. One year, Jennika. Please. Give it a chance. Give me a chance to see how I fare.”
    She sighs, casts a glance all around. Focusing on the general vicinity of the den when she says, “You be careful with him. And don’t say I didn’t warn you, ’cause I did—more than once.”
    I nod. Shoulders sinking with relief, knowing that’s Jennika’s way of giving in.
    “Thank you,” I say, taking her by surprise when I rush toward her and hug her tightly to me. Pulling away and blinking back tears, finally realizing just how much I’ll miss her, no matter how much she annoys me sometimes.
    The thought causing me to realize something else—how much Jennika probably misses me. I’m all she’s got. For sixteen years we’ve been a team. She’s purposely avoided getting close to anyone else. Even with Harlan, she’s careful to keep a safe distance. And while I know it frustrates him, he chooses to accept her on her limited terms. But as much as she tries to avoid it, there’s no doubt Jennika needs a home just as much as I do. She needs friends—a life outside of work. She needs all the things I now have for myself—only in L.A., not here.
    “So what now?” I ask, a new idea forming in my head.
    She sighs, folds her arms across her chest, looking tired when she says, “Well, now that you’re here, I guess I’ll grab a short nap, check in with Paloma, and be on my way.”
    “What about your makeovers?” I motion toward the kitchen. “Looks like you’ve built quite a fan club.”
    Jennika laughs, the sound light and weary, making her way down the ramp when I decide to just say it, just toss it out there and see where it lands.
    “You know, if you’re looking for a roommate in L.A.…”
    She stops, unsure where I’m going.
    “Well, you might consider Marliz. I mean, I know she’s engaged and all—but he’s kind of a jerk,