Page 38 of Troublemaker: The Big Picture Edition

“Hah!” She waves her hand dismissively. “That is exactly what my husband said on our first date. Nine months later—Miguel.”

“He must have given you quite a look.”

“Pah!” She crosses over to take her son by the hand, giving me her back.

I am not having any luck with the ladies today.

Ryder returns to my side, and I call our group over so we can walk together.

“I think Miss Stiles looks nice with her hair up like that,” Ryder says. “Don’t you?”

And I don’t know why I didn’t notice it before, but my son really wants me to like the way Miss Stiles looks.

“Yeah, buddy. I do.”

The walk from the parking lot to the entrance of the Griffith Observatory would take me about five minutes if I were taking my time and enjoying the panoramic hilltop view of Los Angeles. It has taken twenty actual fucking eternal minutes to get this class from the school bus to the steps. Other people’s children are the worst. You’d think they’ve never been outside before,the way they’re freaking out about the patches of lawn and the lamp posts and the statue. They don’t even notice the view of the Hollywood Sign. Which is a good thing because nobody ran to the edge and fell over. But Emilia somehow manages to keep her cool even while managing her runaway skirt.

Until she gets to the top of the steps, turns around to address her unruly followers, and swears like a marine while covering her eyes.

“Okay, everyone!” I yell out as I pull Ryder over to the heavy bronze door and hold it open. “I want to see all fifteen of you kids walk through this door, two by two, holding hands. And then stand quietly right inside here in the lobby. Here we go!”

They all file in past me, two by two. I tell Ryder to take Juanita’s free hand and tell Juanita we’ll join her in one minute.

And then I go over to Emilia, who is furiously rubbing her left eyeball in a blind rage. I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her back to the wind. “I got you. Stop rubbing your eye. You’ll make it worse.”

She drops her arms to her side, still squeezing her eyes shut.

“Does it sting? Is it burning?”

“No, it just feels like my eye is giving birth to an alien.” she hisses.

“You got any hand sanitizer in your bag?”

“Inside zipper pocket. Wet wipes too.”

I reach inside the inside zipper pocket of her bag. “You wearing contacts?”

“Yessssss. I don’t think it went under the lens. It’s just in the corner. Hurry up, hurry up.”

“I’m gonna clean my fingers before I touch your eyes, but you need to try to blink. A lot.”

She tilts her head back and does as I say, and I pull out the little spray bottle of hand sanitizer and…a condom.

Well, well, Miss Stiles. Prepared for everything except desert winds.

“I should have just forced you to wear my sunglasses,” I say, shaking my head and gently taking her head in my hands when they’re cleaned.

She’s frowning and blinking madly, and it’s so cute.

“You can stop blinking now.”

She does and lowers her chin to look at me. “It feels better already.”

“Face me and look up,” I tell her. “I see it. It’s just a tiny piece of something. I don’t see anything under the lens.”

“That’s what I said,” she huffs. “Are you going to get it out?”

“You really didn’t bring a backup pair of glasses?”