I shake my head. Siblings are the worst.
“Were you eavesdropping?” Mom turns her deadly gaze to Noah.
He shrugs. “Maybe,” he drawls. “My sources say not to confirm.”
“Your sources, huh?” I laugh.
“I have spies everywhere,” he stage whispers.
“Ah, I see. I’m thinking about moving. I haven’t even looked at places yet,” I tell my siblings. “Don’t go getting too excited I might be gone for good.”
“Can I move with you?” Noah asks.
“Noah,” Mom scolds. “You are treading on my last nerve.”
“What? Living with Mia sounds fun.” He blinks innocently.
As the baby of the family he’s always known how to play his cards.
“Sorry, bud.” I ruffle his sandy hair and he leans away. “I don’t think they allow you to bring cockroaches in.”
“Cockroach?” He seethes jokingly. “I’m a damn unicorn.”
“Noah!” This time it’s Dad scolding him, his voice raised to a yell. “Do not curse in this house—or anywhere,” he adds when Mom gives him a look.
“Unicorns probably aren’t allowed either. You know, horns and all.”
He shakes his head, giving me a small grin.
If I get my own place, I’ll miss out on these family moments and my heart strings pull with the thought. I remind myself I can come home any time I want, having my own place won’t stop me from making the drive or having my own key.
A few weeks ago I would’ve vehemently said I wasn’t leaving, but then my dumb ass had to go and sign up for too many classes. Next semester I have less, but it’ll still be a lot with work and my time at the studio. I feel like I’ve barely had a moment to breathe in the last month and I desperately need a break.
“If Mia moves, neither of you are getting her room or moving with her,” my mom says. “She was here first.”
“Yeah, you two are basically just interlopers,” Dad jokes. “Why are you even here?”
“Hey,” Addie mocks being offended.
“Does this mean Mia is your favorite?” Noah asks jokingly.
I smile at him and pretend to make a halo above my head. “Of course, I’m an angel.”
“More like a she-devil,” he mutters and I can’t help but laugh, thinking Hollis would probably agree with him.
Our parents shake their heads back and forth in unison, exchanging words in a single glance. I swear they have the freakish ability to read each other’s minds.
Talk of me moving settles down and after dinner I help my mom clear the table and load the dishwasher.
“What do you think about me possibly moving?” I ask her.
She closes the dishwasher and pushes the button to start it before leaning her hip against the counter.
>
“I think it’s a good idea, honestly. I’ve seen how tired you’ve become, and … it’s not you, sweetie. You’re running yourself ragged and you’ll end up burning yourself out. It’s not healthy. Besides, it’s not like you’re moving far away. You’ll be an hour away and we’re in the city a lot anyway, so we’ll still see you all the time. You won’t even be able to miss us.” She smiles, pulling me into a hug. Whispering into my ear she adds, “It’s time for you to spread those wings and fly, baby girl.”
She’s right, I know she is, but it doesn’t mean I’m not still scared.