ordan turns back to me and flashes a grin. It is one of those bright, boyish grins that make you feel like you've somehow earned it. "You're welcome."

I tilt my head to look at him. "I didn't say thank you."

He steps a little closer, looking at me in a way that makes my stomach flutter. "I know, but you were thinking it."

"Oh, you're a mind reader now?"

"Among other things." He's wearing that grin again, the mischievous kind that makes him look as though he's thinking bad things.

I fold my arms. I'd usually recoil at such arrogance, but somehow I find his endearing. "Well, what I was going to say, is that I don't need saving."

"I know you don't. Maybe I just like being the hero."

He certainly looks like one. He's got that classic look, like a boy from a different era, someone you'd see on the back of a motorcycle or driving a corvette. It's not the look of an island boy–not the ones from here, anyway, but he doesn't look out of place.

"Heroes are overrated," I say, then I smile and add, "but thank you."

"No problem." His voice is low, and I like the way my name rolls off his tongue. "Does that kid bother you a lot?"

I pull out my cloth and start wiping down a table–the wrath of Kali is something I really don't need. "We just broke up," I explain. "Well, he broke up with me. I guess he's feeling bad or something because this is the first time we've spoken since."

Jordan's eyes soften as he slides into the booth. "Why'd you break up?"

I stop scrubbing to look at him. It's a personal question, too personal to ask someone you've only just met, but maybe etiquette is different in Chicago.

"He wants to do some traveling before college," I say. "I'd rather stay here and skip college completely if I'm honest."

"Why?"

When I'm certain there's no sign of Kali, I slip into the booth opposite. "I like living here," I say. "Everyone thinks I'm crazy for not being more excited about going to college, but it's never been something that I've wanted to do."

"Then what's the problem?" Jordan asks. "Don't go."

"Ah," I say. "Wouldn't that make things so much simpler? Imagine if we could all just go around not doing the things we don't want to."

He raises an eyebrow. "We can."

I lean forward, resting my arms on the table. "That's not true. Have you ever gone to a family reunion or a party or done something you really didn't want to do, but you did it anyway?"

He smiles a little, and I like the way he's looking at me right now, like he finds me interesting. "Yeah," he says, and he shifts a little so that his arms are resting next to mine. "I have."

"Aha! But you go because it's the normal thing to do, and because it would make someone else happy." I lean back because it's a little hard to concentrate with his arm touching mine. "Well, that's why I'm going to college."

Jordan leans back in his seat, still watching me. "Damn those social constructs making us feel guilty."

"I know, right? So, what about you? Are you going to college?"

His eyes darken, and he shrugs before glancing out the window. "I graduated high school last year, skipped the whole college thing, and got a job in construction."

"You didn't want to go to college, either?"

"Something like that."

There's a story there, I can tell, but before I get the chance to probe further, the door to the patio swings open and out walks Kali, making me jump to my feet. I grab the washcloth again, wiping down the table as he crosses the cafe.

Jordan watches in amusement before getting to his feet. "Listen," he says. "I actually came here because I wanted to talk to you about the cafe."

I nod eagerly and get out my notepad, where I've written a to-do list on the back. "I don't want to overwhelm you," I say, "but I've put together a list of all of the things that need changing or fixing. Now, don't feel like we're going to leave it all up to you. We'll help you, but we kind of need you to take care of the money aspect."

Jordan puts his hands up again, looking a little alarmed. "Evvy," he says, his voice low, "I don't know what you were expecting, but I'm not here to fix up this place. I'm here to sell."

His words hang in the balance, not making any sense. Sell? How can he be here to sell when he's meant to be saving this place? "But you can't," I say dumbly.

He furrows his eyebrows. "Actually, I can. My grandpa died last month and left this place to me in his will."

I don't look at Jordan now, I look out the window, to the kids on the dock. I have so many fond memories of this little cafe, so many experiences. My mother used to work here as a waitress before she died. When my friends and I would get tired on the docks, we'd come back inside for her famous pecan ice cream. She wasn't a native, she moved to the island after a messy breakup and fell for my dad. Not just my dad, but this cafe, too. Now it will be sold to one of the piranhas hoping to turn this beachfront into a resort.

I turn back to Jordan and narrow my eyes. I've been painting on a smile for days, pretending everything is fine, but I can't keep it up any longer. "You need to leave," I say, moving away from him. I can only imagine what I look like right now. My arms are folded, my dark eyes so narrowed that it's giving me a headache, but he doesn't look worried. He folds his arms and stares at me coolly, his expression unwavering.

"I own this place," he says.

"I don't care." I cross the distance between us and scowl. "You think because your name is on a piece of paper that you own this place? You don't."

He looks at me like he thinks I'm insane. "That's literally how it works."

I shake my head, sending dark waves swishing around my shoulders. "Well, you're not doing anything until I see some proof of ownership. I've been working here since I was fifteen, and I've never seen you step foot in here. My mom worked here for years." I'm standing so close I'm practically face-planting his chest. "I'm the one who boarded up the windows to protect it from the hurricane. I'm the one who stays behind late every night to get it ready for the morning. I'm the one who handles the delivery trucks and orders the stock. I'm–"

Kali suddenly steps between us. He must have been listening to the whole commotion, because he rests a meaty arm on my shoulder and says, "I think what Evvy means to say is that this place is all we've ever known. It would be a damn shame to see it go."

For a second, I think we've gotten through to him. But then he looks at me, eyes blazing, and says, "Thanks for the tour yesterday. I'll be back tomorrow with proof of ownership."

I watch him leave, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I haven't cried in years, not since Mom's funeral, but as I get back to mopping the tables, a tear slips down my cheek.