“It is when I wasn’t in the game for so long,” he said. “No one told me.”
“You weren’t ready.”
Kota stood on the stairs and bent over, voice harsh. “We tell each other everything, remember? No secrets. I brought her into the shower, kicking and screaming. I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t hate my guts at this point.”
Sean got up, holding on to the rail for support. “You think she’d hate you?”
“I broke my promise to her,” Kota grumbled. “You’re wrong. This is a competition. We’d all have to win her over for it to work, right? Well, I’m in negative numbers now. Thanks for the heads-up.” He rushed up the stairs and into the bathroom, slamming the door closed.
Sean sat on the stairs again, lowering his head.
He wanted to tell himself what Kota said was wrong, but was it?
Sean had hardly gotten any time with her. He’d heard so much about her, watched her on a screen.
How much did she really know about him? Not as much as he knew of her.
Did she care about him like she did Owen?
He remembered the way Owen had scolded her for playing a video game, and that dour sadness that had followed her when she went to bed.
Heart broken.
Because she loved him and wanted to make him happy.
And the next morning, he did something and she was all doe-eyed after that point.
Sean didn’t want to break her heart like Owen had, but he’d do anything to get her to look at him that way.
Kota was right. It was a competition, but not between them.
They’d all have to find a way to win her heart.
Sean’s phone buzzed, and he groaned. An alarm sounding a reminder. His mother was due in at the airport. He couldn’t stay and talk to Kota.
But he couldn’t just leave him like this.
He left the house and walked to his own car, parked across the street at Nathan’s house. Out of habit, he sent a message to Owen.
Sean: Kota’s having a hard time with guilt, feels like he needs to win points with Sang. Calm him down? Maybe we can get them together tomorrow.
No immediate answer. Owen might be busy, but he usually responded quickly, at least with a ‘got your message’ response.
But then, everything had been turned upside down in the last couple of days.
Help Me Help You
SANG
After I started the dishwasher, Carol wiped down the counter and the sink until it shined and then motioned for me to follow her.
To my surprise, she guided me to the laundry room.
Marie’s sheets were finishing up in the washer. She took them out while they were still in the spin cycle, tossing them into the dryer. She filled the washing machine with what looked like a mix of my father’s work clothes. She waited until it was turning before she spoke to me.
“I wanted to talk in complete privacy,” she said, leaning against the folding table.
She might have gotten her wish, more than I liked. The laundry room was positioned next to the garage, near the rear stairs. I had the phone with me, but I wondered now if the guys could hear over the washer and dryer running.
Did they have a camera back here? I didn’t feel physically in danger, but it would have helped to have witnesses if she said anything crazy.
“Your father seems a little stressed coming back here,” Carol said.
I tried not to react to this. He had every reason to be stressed. He’d done it to himself, but he was dragging me, and Marie, into his mistakes.
She continued. “I promised him I’d make this as easy a transition as possible. I appreciate your help and your cooperation. I wish your sister could do the same. It would make things much easier.”
How much should I tell her? It was impossible to know, so I tried to be as vague as possible. “It’s been hard.”
“I know,” she said. She folded her arms across her stomach. This caused her blouse to bunch around her hips and gave her some shape. “Truthfully, I was expecting a couple of hellions, what naturally happens with teenage girls living alone for some time.”
I pressed my lips together grimly. I didn’t want to answer. Was that the impression our dad had been giving her?
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had been, but I suddenly understand you very well. I also understand why you were skipping school.”
“I wasn’t, really,” I said quickly. “I was in school. There was a mix-up.”
She held out her hand in a pause motion. “Your grades have been spectacular, according to your counselor, so I was surprised to hear your attendance was suffering. Girls who do that well don’t usually skip class. And from what your father said, you had never done it before. But now, seeing your willingness to conform, I’m starting to believe you that it might have been a mistake.”
“It was,” I said carefully, unsure how to respond when it sounded like she was siding with me.
She continued, “I don’t see a hellion in you. Taking all those AP courses, the violin, and then getting a job shows me you are serious about your future. I did the same thing in high school. You look exhausted.”
I remained quiet, afraid to shatter this vision she had of me and not wanting to share the truth.
I hadn’t been a bad person, but many things had happened that weren’t normal. I was afraid to spout off a lie, when I was horrible at lying.
When I didn’t say anything, she kept talking. “So I’m willing to offer my help. I’ll go to bat for you about the attendance and will straighten it out. And I’ll help you not be so exhausted if you’ll help me here.”
I wasn’t sure what she planned to do, and I didn’t need her to go to bat for me for any reason. What could I say to this, though? Saying no might have made me sound ungrateful for her offer to help.
Was agreeing to this going to do more harm than good?
“I don’t want to put you through any trouble,” I said quietly. “I already spoke to the counselor, and she fixed my attendance issue.” Or rather, Mr. Blackbourne and the mayor had spoken to her...
Her chubby cheeks expanded as she smiled. “You’ve taken initiative. But I should make sure to fix it before we move. We’ll worry about it once school is back in session,” she said. “I’ll want to make double sure, and to let her know I’ve taken you under my wing. We still have a few days before then. In the meantime, I need you to quit your job.”
My mouth fell open. It wasn’t a regular job, and I didn’t have to go in, but it eliminated a reason to be out of the house. “He...asked about Saturday.”
“You can go in Saturday and let him know it’ll be your last two weeks. A girl your age shouldn’t be working in a diner, anyway. If you want a job, you can do what I did as a kid. You can babysit when you have time.”
I pressed my lips together and hoped the boys could hear. I’d have two weeks to figure out another plan. But we’d be in school by then. So I’d be mostly out of the house anyway, right? “Okay.”
“You shouldn’t need the extra money. I’ll make sure you have what you need. You should be focusing on your studies and extracurricular activities. Are you participating in any clubs?”
&n
bsp; I started to shake my head and then thought it better to do as Kota had suggested. Test the boundaries. See how much I could get her to accept activities where I’d be away from the house. I ran through all the after-school groups I was aware of. “There’s a study group. There’s an ensemble for music. And...art club.” I wanted to rattle off more, but I didn’t want to go overboard.
“You’ve got a busy calendar.” She unfolded her arms and started going through the things in the cabinets around the washer, rearranging some supplies and taking other things out onto the folding table. Could she not stop cleaning and organizing? “Tonight after you clean your room, I want you to work on a list of all of your activities. I’ll adjust it as needed. Don’t forget, Saturday we have a guest. Be back here by six.”
I was eager to get away from her and agreed to it, ready to go. New plan. New hope. Maybe the job wasn’t going to be for me, but I’d pretend to babysit for someone. Could the guys figure out a way to do this? Then there was school, and all those activities. I backed up a few steps, ready to make whatever calendar she wished.
“One more thing,” she said.
I waited, quiet and listening.
She got close enough that the acidic scent of her perfume made me want to cough. Her tone dropped, almost whispering. “Your sister should probably be more included with your activities. Her grades aren’t the best, and she’s depressed. Jimmy also may need help fitting in at school. Help me with this where possible.”
Marie? Jimmy? My lips twitched, hesitating. “I’m not sure how I can help.”
“When I think of something, I’ll say so,” she said. “But you’re clearly the social butterfly here.”
I tried not to choke. Me?
She ignored the noise I made. “Just promise to help where you can. I want your father to see we can work together. Things should calm down once he sees we all get along and we’re on the same page. It’ll get the stress off his shoulders.”
I nodded without thinking, agreeing, and yet couldn’t help feeling stunned at how foreign this conversation was to me.