Page 153 of Challenge Me

“Oli.”

“Right. Uh, where was I?”

“No-good check collectors,” Mal replied. Her voice was more inflectionless than usual, but it made Oli perk up.

“Holy crap,” he mouthed to me. “Well, Remi was feeling pretty confident about himself when he managed to whip up the batter. He told me that he could flip the thing like the chefs do on TV. Long story short, he couldn’t. It hit the floor and exploded because the inside was raw. He gave it a funeral. Like, an honest-to-God moment of silence before making another one. He said, and I quote, ‘He died too soon, but he died golden.’”

Ducking my head, I laughed at the memory. He’d left out the part where I scooped what I could back into the pan to cook the rest of the way since we were terrified Rob would find out we’d wasted food. There may have been dirt and God knows what else in it, but nobody could say we weren’t committed to the cause.

The woman behind the counter called my name and slid the drinks over. Grabbing three straws, I passed them to the others.

“You’ll like it,” I insisted when Mal gave me a look of absolute disgust.

“What’s wrong with smoothies?” Oli asked.

“I don’t think she likes the texture.”

“Seeds,” she muttered. “Chunks. Stringy.” She emphasized with a dramatic gag.

“Luckily for you, I had them filter out the seeds and double-blend it. They’re cool like that here.”

Maintaining her repugnant expression, she took a tiny sip of it. I watched her for any sign of nausea or maybe anger. I had a feeling she’d throw the thing at me if she decided I’d lied to her.

“Well?” I prompted.

Her head tilted side to the side for a long moment. “Okay.”

She started toward the door, leaving me in disbelief. “Okay?” I said to Oli. “I fucking told you I’d get her to like it.”

“Time to get you a ‘World’s Best Stepdad’ shirt.”

“Abso-freaking-lutely.” Clapping him on the shoulder, I followed after Mal.

I was about to say something to Oli when I heard a shriek. Her cup hit the ground, sending red liquid in every direction. Flashes erupted all around me, along with the chatter of demanding voices. I couldn’t sort through them, nor did I have any desire to.

Oli jumped into action before I did. He rushed forward and planted himself in front of Mal as he held up his hand to block the cameras. I came up behind her, wanting to grab her and run but knowing that she wasn’t in the right headspace for it. If she panicked and fought me, everyone here would capture it.

“I need to pick you up,” I said quietly.

She stepped forward, then realized that Oli was in front of her. When she moved back, she bumped into me. Her hands came up to cover her ears, and she began to rock frantically.

“Mr. Keane,” one of the people said, trying to shove a microphone past Oli. “Do you have a moment to answer some questions?”

“Care to comment on the upcoming interview?”

The flashes blinded me, and I turned my head to the side. My heart raced with fear and hopelessness as I watched Mal devolve into sensory overload. The way her shoulders shook snapped me back into focus, and I knew what I had to do.

“God damnit,” I muttered before I scooped her up.

“No,” she cried.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. It’s me.”

She shook her head, but I didn’t have time to argue with her.

“Mr. Keane,” multiple people called as I stood.

“What do you think of Mrs. Kessler’s—”