Don’t Make Me Turn This Life Around Pagán, Camille (best novels for teenagers .txt) 📖

“Libby?” said Milagros. “You okay?”

For someone with poor eyesight, the woman didn’t miss a thing.

“Just really tired,” I said. “How are you, though?”

Unlike me, she didn’t try to sugarcoat it. “I don’t like it here,” she said, jutting her chin out. “I want to go home, to my comfy bed and my own bathroom. My dogs are probably waiting for me right now and thinking I’m dead.”

I winced, because she’d said the only D word worse than divorce.

But then my eyes darted to the door, where a man about Shiloh’s height wearing a black T-shirt, as he’d been, had just arrived. I’d already risen to my feet when I realized it wasn’t him.

“He’ll be here soon,” said Milagros, reading my mind again. “He’s fine, and so are we. It’s going to be okay, mija.”

I didn’t have it in me to tell her she was wrong.

TWENTY-ONE

The minutes passed at molasses speed. More people streamed in and out of the classroom, but each time I realized Shiloh wasn’t among them the lump in my throat grew larger. All of our marital troubles suddenly seemed so insignificant in light of the storm. If only it hadn’t taken a matter of life and death to realize that.

“How about some cheese?” I said to the girls. I could tell they were getting squirrelly; Charlotte was pacing back and forth in the narrow space between where we and another family were seated, while Isa kept opening the books she’d taken from a shelf, only to discard them seconds later.

“Ugh,” said Charlotte, like I’d just offered her snails.

“Please don’t wait too long to eat,” I said.

“I know,” she said in the same annoyed tone.

Did she, though?

“I’ll take your cheese,” said Isa, holding out her hand.

“Um, no you won’t,” I said, but before I could launch into a lecture about how I was rationing food for everyone’s benefit, I’d just realized that Milagros was starting to look a little peaked.

“You doing okay?” I whispered, crouching in front of her. She was leaning on Hector, fanning herself with a piece of construction paper. “Do you want some food? Water? Anything?”

“Eh,” she said softly. “I’m just warm. Don’t worry about me, mija.”

It wasn’t possible for me not to worry about her, but I was juggling enough catastrophes that she wasn’t the only one on my mind. I turned to Hector. “Can I steal you for a second?” I said in the calmest voice I could muster. Though the thunder had let up, the wind was still howling, and I couldn’t help but think of footage I’d seen of weather forecasters clinging to lampposts in the middle of a hurricane. What if Shiloh had literally been blown away trying to get through the parking lot?

“Of course,” said Hector, already on his feet and heading for the door. “What is it?” he said once we were in the hallway. The underarms of his linen shirt were dark with sweat, and the bags under his eyes seemed to have doubled in size since we’d left Milagros’.

“I didn’t want to worry everyone, but I’m concerned that Shiloh isn’t back yet,” I said quietly.

“I am, too,” he said, glancing around. The hallway was filled with people who looked wary and exhausted. I blinked back tears as it occurred to me how many of them were probably thinking they’d gone through this already.

“Do you think they closed the shelter and he’s stuck outside?” I asked.

“I think it’s unlikely that they’d turn anyone away. But how about I go check?”

I exhaled. “That would be really great. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said kindly. “Thank you. Milly wouldn’t have come to the shelter if you hadn’t been here to convince her.”

Maybe not, but now that I knew there wasn’t a generator here, I was starting to wonder if it had been a mistake to come. Heat killed all kinds of people, but especially the elderly—and the shelter was even hotter than Milagros’ house.

Hector headed for the entrance, so I went back to Milagros and the girls. When I sat down, Isa glared at me. “Where is Papi?” she demanded.

“He’s coming,” I said, forcing my lips into a smile. “Hector just went to go get him, in fact.”

“He’s a good one,” said Milagros, who had a faraway look in her eyes. I couldn’t quite tell if it was love or exhaustion.

“He is,” I said, sitting in front of her. “He’ll be right back.”

“Hector or Papi?” called Charlotte.

It was then that I realized she’d just perched on a low stool and was trying to peer through the metal shutters. They were keeping most of the rain out, but the floor beneath the windows was wet from what was leaking through.

“Charlotte, get away from there,” I said. “That’s not safe.”

“A little water’s not going to kill me, Mom,” she said, wiping the mist from her forehead.

“No, but—”

“Libby.”

When I spun around, Shiloh was standing in the doorway. He was drenched and splattered with mud—but he wasn’t missing limbs and hadn’t been charred by lightning, and none of the other terrible things that I’d imagined had happened to him.

“Oh, thank God,” I choked, running to him.

He caught me in his arms and pulled me tight. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispered. “Hector told me you were worried. I was helping a family whose car had gotten stuck in the mud.”

Of course he had. “Don’t apologize—that was so good of you. And you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” I looked past him at Hector. “Thank you so much for finding him.”

Hector shrugged sheepishly. In spite of his polished appearance, I realized that he reminded me of Shiloh. No wonder I’d been jealous of Milagros. “I didn’t do much. He was already close to the door when I went to look,” he said.

“All the same, thank you. I’m really glad you’re here,” I said, and he smiled shyly.

“Well, I kind of have good news,” said Shiloh, looking back and forth between the five