Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Hey.” I gave a brief wave, glancing to the side.
Robbie sat next to Peach, and he lifted his hand to wave before it dropped back to his lap. I noticed the toast in front of him, how it was untouched. My gaze skirted away. I didn’t want to see the sadness or bags under my little brother’s eyes. I didn’t want to remember why.
“Uh, how about a seat, Mackenzie?” Mrs. Jensen extended an arm to a chair across from Peach.
I took the chair next to that, across from my brother instead.
She cleared her throat, holding a cup of coffee tightly right in front of her chest as if it were protecting her. “Toast, Mackenzie? Rose could get you some.”
In the next moment, I had a piece of buttered toast in front of me, but I couldn’t touch it. Peach circled her spoon in her bowl of Cheerios. She was glaring at me with a hint of confusion.
I lifted an eyebrow. “Yes?”
She dropped her gaze but still circled her spoon around her bowl.
Ryan dropped into the chair at the end of the table between my brother and me so he was facing the kitchen.
Both Mrs. Jensen and Rose fussed over him. What kind of cereal did he want? Oh, he didn’t want cereal. Toast? Bacon? Wait, Rose could whip up some pancakes. Not pancakes? French toast, then? After the fifth question, Ryan got up and poured his own bowl of cereal, rolling his eyes as he started back to his chair.
“Mil—” His mom started to suggest, but he’d already grabbed it and poured a hefty glug into his bowl.
“Knock it off, Mom,” he grumbled, hunching over his bowl. “Fuss over Peach. She actually likes it.”
“I do not.”
He shot her a look, his spoon poised in front of him. “You do too. The whole spoiled thing works for you. You love it.”
She transferred her glare to him, giving me a respite. “You’re such a jerk sometimes.”
A cocky grin spread over his face. “Sometimes? I heard you on the phone with Erin. I thought it was always?”
Her eyes got big, and she slammed a hand down on the table. “Stop listening to my calls!” Her head whipped around. “Mom!”
Ryan shrugged. “Not my fault your voice carries through the entire house. Close your door next time.” He rolled his eyes. “Might help, genius.”
“Okay, you two. Stop it.” Their mother decided to wade in, sitting at the head of the table. Her coffee remained gripped with both hands. A frozen yet polite smile appeared as she turned to me. “Mackenzie, you and Ryan are in the same grade. You’re a senior, right?”
Miracles did happen, after all.
I nodded.
Peach’s eyes were narrowed on me, watching for a reaction. I kept my face straight, but I was doing somersaults inside.
Mrs. Jensen cleared her throat. “Your grandparents are going to arrive today. They’ll be picking you and your brother up and taking you back to the house . . . or . . . a hotel. I’m not sure where you’re going, actually, but I know they’re eager to see you.”
“Grams is coming?” Robbie’s head popped up.
I shot him a look. “Didn’t see that on the calendar, huh?”
He rolled his eyes, but one corner of his mouth lifted. He leaned back against his seat. “I can’t check everything.”
“What?” I teased him. “How is that possible?”
He shrugged, but anything he would’ve said was cut short.
Mrs. Jensen exuded a relieved and forced laugh. “Brian told me one of Phillip’s children was brilliant. That must be you, Robert.”
Robert. I almost scoffed at the name no one called him except Grams.
Mrs. Jensen kept going, leaning forward to beam at Robbie. “Portside has an advanced program for gifted children like yourself. I think you’ll really like it. I know sometimes the exceptional children can be outcast by their peers in other places, but rest assured—” Her voice was so cheery. “That isn’t the case in Portside.”
She paused, waiting for Robbie to say something.
He looked at her and then to me. His little hand fisted around a fork, and a tear welled up in his eyes. He looked away.
“Oh.” The corner of her mouth turned down. “Dear.”
Shit. It was time to do my big-sisterly duty. I coughed and scooted back my chair. “Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Jensen.”
She had paled, but she tried to muster another smile for me. “Yes, well, you should thank Rose. She does most of our meals. We wouldn’t know what to do without her.” She turned toward Rose, who paused at the sink. “Right, Rose? The entire household would fall apart if it weren’t for you.”
“Yes, Mrs. Jensen. Yes.”
Mrs. Jensen laughed, and I tried not to wince at how fake it sounded. Her hand came to rest on her chest. “Well, I brought up school before because Peach is having a few of her friends over at the end of the week. If you wanted—”