Curly.”
“Listen, I have to get home before my parents go ape-shit. I’ll call you in a bit, okay?” I got up and placed my glass on her nightstand.
She watched me, looking glum.
“Let me know how you’re doing.” I reached out and squeezed her hand. As usual, electric jolts ran down my spine.
“I will,” she paused, “and thank you for keeping me company.”
“No worries.” The moment I walked out of her room, I got a distinct feeling of loss.
When I got back home and opened the front door, the aroma of bacon and eggs lured me to the kitchen. Classical music was playing in the background, as usual. It was a typical Saturday morning in the Morrison household.
“Hey, guys.” I flopped in the chair next to my dad.
“You’re just in time for brunch.” My mother turned around with a smile, but it soon disappeared when she got a look at my face. She gasped and rushed over to me. “Heavens, Brian! What happened to you?”
My dad looked up from his paper, and his brows furrowed. “Young man, you know how I feel about fighting,” he said in a stern tone.
Self-conscious, I tried to cover the evidence with my hand, but when my palm made contact with the bridge of my nose, I flinched from the pain and my eyes watered.
“Explain yourself,” Dad ordered while Mom fussed over me, the frying bacon forgotten.
I waved her off. “Mom, I’m okay. It’s not broken.” Then I turned to my dad. “I didn’t start the fight. I’m not suspended from school, but Kevin Masters is.”
My explanation seemed to calm my dad down a bit. “That boy is a bully.”
My mother huffed. She knew how miserable Kevin had made my life since middle school. “He ought to be expelled.”
“Cynthia, it’ll take more than one suspension to get the son of a prominent councilman expelled from school,” my father reminded her. “I still don’t want you fighting, Brian. Avoid him at all costs.” We’d had this conversation many times over the years. My father didn’t realize the impossibility of what he was asking.
“I know. I’m glad he was suspended. Serves him right.”
Mom went back to her bacon while I drummed my fingers on the table. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smelled the food.
“How is Shannon?” Dad asked.
I told them about her father’s death, omitting all the crazy details.
When I fell silent, Mom asked, “You like her, don’t you?”
I’d known it was just a matter of time before she questioned my friendship with Shannon.
“She’s a friend,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“Well, she’s a pretty girl, and such a delight to talk to. I hope she comes out of this tragedy in one piece.” Mom shook her head.
“She’ll be all right.” I kept my expression blank.
“Give her a hug for me,” she said.
I’d love to, but since Matro had been designated to keep me in line, I wouldn’t dare. I happened to like having my limbs intact.
“Here you are.” Mom placed a plateful of food on the table.
I picked up my fork to help myself, but my dad coughed. “Let’s say grace first.” He took my hand and my mom’s to create a little circle. We bowed our heads for a silent prayer.
The moment they released my hands, I dove in. The rest of the meal was spent talking about Dad’s new celebrity clients. Thankful that attention had turned away from my swollen nose, I feigned interest to avoid any further discussion about it.
After I helped clear the dishes away, I went to my room and got in the shower. I thought about my nightmare. The explosion meant something had happened, but I didn’t know what it was yet or who’d been the sacrificial lamb this time. I hated not knowing.
My cell phone beeped with an incoming text when I was toweling myself dry. It was from Shannon.
Relatives are coming from out of town. Will be busy the entire weekend.
I replied, Take it easy. I’ll miss you,
Me, too.
Those two words made me feel
“Listen, I have to get home before my parents go ape-shit. I’ll call you in a bit, okay?” I got up and placed my glass on her nightstand.
She watched me, looking glum.
“Let me know how you’re doing.” I reached out and squeezed her hand. As usual, electric jolts ran down my spine.
“I will,” she paused, “and thank you for keeping me company.”
“No worries.” The moment I walked out of her room, I got a distinct feeling of loss.
When I got back home and opened the front door, the aroma of bacon and eggs lured me to the kitchen. Classical music was playing in the background, as usual. It was a typical Saturday morning in the Morrison household.
“Hey, guys.” I flopped in the chair next to my dad.
“You’re just in time for brunch.” My mother turned around with a smile, but it soon disappeared when she got a look at my face. She gasped and rushed over to me. “Heavens, Brian! What happened to you?”
My dad looked up from his paper, and his brows furrowed. “Young man, you know how I feel about fighting,” he said in a stern tone.
Self-conscious, I tried to cover the evidence with my hand, but when my palm made contact with the bridge of my nose, I flinched from the pain and my eyes watered.
“Explain yourself,” Dad ordered while Mom fussed over me, the frying bacon forgotten.
I waved her off. “Mom, I’m okay. It’s not broken.” Then I turned to my dad. “I didn’t start the fight. I’m not suspended from school, but Kevin Masters is.”
My explanation seemed to calm my dad down a bit. “That boy is a bully.”
My mother huffed. She knew how miserable Kevin had made my life since middle school. “He ought to be expelled.”
“Cynthia, it’ll take more than one suspension to get the son of a prominent councilman expelled from school,” my father reminded her. “I still don’t want you fighting, Brian. Avoid him at all costs.” We’d had this conversation many times over the years. My father didn’t realize the impossibility of what he was asking.
“I know. I’m glad he was suspended. Serves him right.”
Mom went back to her bacon while I drummed my fingers on the table. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smelled the food.
“How is Shannon?” Dad asked.
I told them about her father’s death, omitting all the crazy details.
When I fell silent, Mom asked, “You like her, don’t you?”
I’d known it was just a matter of time before she questioned my friendship with Shannon.
“She’s a friend,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“Well, she’s a pretty girl, and such a delight to talk to. I hope she comes out of this tragedy in one piece.” Mom shook her head.
“She’ll be all right.” I kept my expression blank.
“Give her a hug for me,” she said.
I’d love to, but since Matro had been designated to keep me in line, I wouldn’t dare. I happened to like having my limbs intact.
“Here you are.” Mom placed a plateful of food on the table.
I picked up my fork to help myself, but my dad coughed. “Let’s say grace first.” He took my hand and my mom’s to create a little circle. We bowed our heads for a silent prayer.
The moment they released my hands, I dove in. The rest of the meal was spent talking about Dad’s new celebrity clients. Thankful that attention had turned away from my swollen nose, I feigned interest to avoid any further discussion about it.
After I helped clear the dishes away, I went to my room and got in the shower. I thought about my nightmare. The explosion meant something had happened, but I didn’t know what it was yet or who’d been the sacrificial lamb this time. I hated not knowing.
My cell phone beeped with an incoming text when I was toweling myself dry. It was from Shannon.
Relatives are coming from out of town. Will be busy the entire weekend.
I replied, Take it easy. I’ll miss you,
Me, too.
Those two words made me feel
Similar Books
![[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter](/res/aob/book1.jpg)
