““Can I come in?” I ask. “No.” My belly drops. “No?” He shakes his head. “No.” “Please.” He shakes his head again, but he’s looking a little chagrined. “You should go.” “I’m not leaving.” He shrugs. “Fine. Suit yourself.” He closes the door in my face. I stand there on the stoop, not sure what to do with myself. Dad left with Phil, and I don’t have another ride. I sit down on the top step. A gentle drizzle begins to fall. I pull my knees up to my chest and scoot back under the overhang, but it’s not enough. I’m getting soaked. The door opens. “Jesus Christ, Madison. Are you seriously going to sit there in the rain?” My teeth are starting to chatter. “Just until my dad gets back. Then I’ll get out of your hair.” “Get in here,” he snarls. “No, I’m fine right here.” “Is this what life with you is going to be like? You declining every time I make a suggestion and me having to force you into it?” He hooks an arm beneath my knees and one behind my shoulders and scoops me up. “Jesus, you’re a lot of trouble,””
