Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Sensing that this could get out of hand and not wanting Mel to suffer because of my dumb actions, I take Belle by the arm and pull her up the stairs to the front door. “Mel and I decided she would be better off with a different tutor.”
“Why?”
“Because”—I push her through the open door and jerk my head for Mel to go inside—“I’m not a good tutor. I’m good with computers but not with people.” I slam the door shut, leaving frat boy outside. He can come back tomorrow if he wants but for today, his time with Mel is over. I’d likely be waiting for him at the bottom of her driveway. That way he can fall flat on his face off her property.
“Then why am I here? I thought I’d hang out while you two did math stuff.” Belle wrings her hands.
“I thought you wanted to do your nails,” Mel chirps, pulling Belle’s hands apart.
“I did but … are you saying you just invited me over to hang out even though my brother isn’t tutoring you anymore?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? Come on.” She begins to tug my sister toward the staircase. “I have all the supplies set out. I have this new home gel manicure kit that I’ve been dying to try out.”
When Melody’s not looking, Belle turns back and mouths an apology in my direction. She thought Mel would drop her if I screwed things up. Well, I screwed things up and Melody still invited Belle over.
Melody is better than both my sister and me.
“Aren’t you coming?” Mel asks from the top of the stairs.
“I’m going to forage in your kitchen.”
A huge smile breaks across Mel’s face. “Get us something good, too.”
It takes me a wrong turn or two until I find the kitchen again. The place is as big as a restaurant with two islands and two cooktops and what looks like four ovens. I don’t know why a family of three needs space like this, but I guess a senator puts on a lot of parties—when he’s home.
I find the fixings for a grilled cheese sandwich and make three of them for us. There’s a machine that I think makes shakes but I don’t know how to run it so I heat up milk and add some chocolate syrup I find. I pile everything on a large silver tray and haul it up the stairs.
“You need a kitchen closer to your room,” I say as I push the doors open.
“There’s a dumb waiter,” Mel informs me, her head bent over my sister’s hands.
“That’s not me?” I joke.
“I mean…I wasn’t going to say it.”
Belle giggles.
“I don’t think it’s fair that the two of you are ganging up on me.”
“Then you shouldn’t leave us alone.”
Hmm. I don’t know what to say to that. “Where should I put the tray?”
“Down there in front of the television. We can watch The Great British Bake-off. Your sister says it’s her favorite and I have two episodes to catch up on.”
Over Mel’s head, Belle’s eyes flash in warning. I would swear that not only has Belle never watched that show before but I’d be surprised if she’s even heard of it before today.
“I made grilled cheese,” I tell them as I carry the heavy tray down to the lower level.
“Those are my favorite!” Mel cries. “Don’t you dare eat mine or I’ll cut your eyelashes off in your sleep.”
Hmm, again. I shouldn’t leave her alone. She plans to be around me when I’m sleeping. I try not to add these things up and create some wild, improbable scenario. Her bedroom, her space, still boggles my mind, but she likes simple foods like grilled cheese sandwiches and she thinks a fun night is painting my sister’s fingernails.
I drop to the sofa and shove half a sandwich in my mouth so I don’t say something dumb like I love you. Once the nails are done and the food is gone, I drag a reluctant Belle home.
“She’s really nice,” Belle says dreamily.
“Yeah.”
“I like her.”
“Yeah.”
“I think you should date her.”
Yeah.
Chapter 12
Melody
“Melody!” I jolt awake at the sound of my mom’s voice, sitting up. I’m still in my clothes from yesterday. I must have crashed. “Melody!” My mom shouts my name again before my bedroom door flies open and she flips on the lights, blinding me. I prepare myself for whatever it is she’s going to tell me about my father. I’m sure with the way she’s yelling my name that he’s done something to upset her again.
“What time is it?” I rub my eyes. My alarm on my phone hasn't even gone off yet. I reach over to double check it but get distracted.
“I need you to think back to when your grandfather died.” She paces back and forth in front of my bed.
“Yes, that’s what I love to think about when I first wake up.” She plops down on my bed. She’s all done up. “What time is it?” I ask again.