Chapter 5
I should add Addy private time to the chart.
Addy
“O tis!” Penelope shouts. “It’s your turn to load the dishwasher!”
“I loaded it yesterday.”
Mila stomps her foot. “I did it yesterday!”
“No, I did,” Otis insists.
Penelope taps the chart on the refrigerator. “It says here today is your turn.”
“We switched, remember?”
Penelope’s nose wrinkles. “If we switched, I would have marked it on the chart. Changes are the reason why I insisted on a whiteboard.”
“Nerd,” Otis mutters.
“I am not a nerd.”
“You’re a nerd,” Mila says before beginning to chant. “Nerd! Nerd! Nerd!”
I groan and bury my face in my hands. This is my life most evenings. Fighting over who has to set the table, fighting over who has to load the dishwasher, fighting over who has to clean the table. It goes on and on and on.
It’s calmer when Mom is home, but she usually works second shift. Which leaves me here to deal with my siblings, who can bicker nonstop all day long. These are the days I wish I was still an only child.
“Stop calling me a nerd.”
“What are you going to do, nerd? Unmake my bed?”
Penelope smirks. “No, you’re the one who unmakes beds. I will be more inventive. I have my chemistry kit.”
“Addy!” Mila screams. “Penelope threatened to blow me up.”
I push to my feet. “Enough.”
“But—”
“I said enough.” I point to Otis. “Load the dishwasher.” He opens his mouth to complain but I slash my hand in the air.
He grunts. “Fine.”
“Penelope, wipe the table.”
She grabs a dishcloth and begins cleaning the table. It’s a miracle.
“Mila, take out the trash.”
Mila sprints for the trash. For reasons I have yet to figure out, she loves to take out the trash.
I enjoy the silence while I gather the leftover spaghetti sauce. Why can’t they be this quiet all the time?
“Has everyone finished their homework?” I ask once the table and kitchen are clean.
“I’m finished,” Penelope says .
“Me too,” Mila adds.
I lift an eyebrow at her. Unlike Penelope, she hates homework. “You are?”
“We didn’t have any homework today.”
“Do I need to phone your teacher and ask?”
Her shoulders fall. “No.” She stomps away to the bedroom she shares with Penelope.
“Can I go over to Steve’s house?” Otis asks.
“Don’t you have practice in the morning?”
“Not until ten.”
I check the time. It’s not yet seven. “Be home by ten. It’s a weeknight.”
“Mom would let me stay out later.”
He’s such a liar. As if I haven’t caught on to his little game. I cross my arms over my chest. “You want to message her to ask if you can stay out on a weeknight when you have practice tomorrow?”
He scowls. “No.”
My brother will never admit it, but I’m more lenient than our mom. I worry about being too strict and ruining my relationship with my siblings. Whereas Mom worries the kids will become troublemakers she has to bail out of jail.
“You want to watch a movie?” I ask Penelope once Otis is gone.
“There’s a documentary on diamond mining in Africa.”
I sigh. Of course, she wants to watch a documentary. My gifted sister doesn’t have time for menial things such as movies and fiction novels .
We settle in the living room. While she watches her documentary, I scan a magazine on my phone. I notice an article on Juliet Ash and click on it. I gasp when I read how much concert tickets cost. I hope Gage can find someone else to attend the concert with.
My stomach sours. I don’t want Gage to attend the concert with another woman. I want to go with him. If I’m being honest with myself – something I’m loath to do – I want to spend time with the football player. Time, I don’t have.
Speaking of time. I check my watch. Great. Time to argue with Mila about bathing.
An hour later, I collapse in bed. My head aches from Mila shouting at me. And the screaming match between Mila and Penelope. I don’t understand why Penelope lets Mila get under her skin. She’s smart enough to understand Mila’s teasing her. Can’t she let it go? Apparently not.
My phone buzzes and I groan. If Otis is in trouble, I’m going to scream.
Hi, friend. How was your day?
My entire body warms when I read the message from Gage. He’s thinking of me. Little old me.
Exhausting.
Tell me more. What happened?
Huh. I thought he’d ignore my complaining and switch the topic but he didn’t.
Do you seriously want to know?
I wouldn’t ask otherwise.
I roll onto my stomach to type my answer .
My siblings argued about dinner, about the dishes, about every-dang-thing.
Siblings love to argue.
Do you have any sisters or brothers?
I wait for three dots to appear to indicate he’s typing but they don’t. Maybe I’m being too personal. Or maybe he’s busy. Or maybe he’s bored. My life is not exciting.
I highlight the message but Gage responds before I can delete my question.
Nope. No sisters or brothers.
Lucky you.
I always wanted a few brothers. A little sister to protect. A big family.
Does he not have a family? I type the question but then delete it again. I want to know everything there is to know about Gage. But nothing will come of the knowledge. Since we can never be more than friends.
Me too. Until I met my brother and sisters.
Tell me all about them.
Otis is my brother. He’s the oldest at seventeen. He’s obsessed with football.
I like him already.
I roll my eyes. Men and their sports.
Penelope is fourteen. She’s smarter than me. She’s going to take over the world someday.
In a good way, I hope ?
Definitely. She watched a documentary about how miners are treated in Africa today and cried. Before declaring, she would do things differently.
I think I’m going to like Penelope.
And then there’s Mila. She’s eight. And a thorn in my side.
How so?
She doesn’t want to listen. She screams when it’s bathtime. She tortures her sister.
I am definitely going to like Mila.
My stomach tingles. Does he want to meet my family? Why? We’re barely friends. And he’s not on the island for long anyway. He’ll be gone before school starts in the fall.
Calm down, stomach. I am not getting involved with a landlubber. Getting involved with visitors didn’t work out very well for Mom.
You should get Mila a dog.
A dog?
Has he lost his mind? I can’t get my little sister to brush her teeth without begging and fighting and bargaining. A dog is a bad idea.
It would teach her how to be responsible.
She’s eight.
Isn’t this what families do? They get a dog for the kids?
And who in this family is going to take care of the dog? Walk it three times a day? Pick up after it when it has an accident? Wash it? Take it to the vet? Me, that’s who. As if I have oodles of time to add caring for a dog to my agenda .
Sorry. I didn’t think of how much work a dog would be. No dog.
My mouth gapes open. He agreed with me. Without arguing. And apologized. Who is this unicorn man?
Thanks for understanding.
I’m very understanding. You should ask my teammates.
Your teammates will say you’re understanding?
Never mind. Don’t ask them.
What will they say about you?
That I’m obsessed with a redheaded singer I met at Mermaid Karaoke.
My heart beats against my ribcage. He’s obsessed with me? I’m just Addy. Nothing exotic or interesting to see here. Whereas he’s a famous footballer who’s been photographed with models on his arm. I may have googled him while Penelope watched her documentary.
Obsessed?
Obsessed. Intrigued. Pick your favorite.
We’re just friends.
I write it as much for me as for him. I need the reminder. Nothing can come of this friendship.
Well, friend. It’s time for me to go to sleep.
I glance at the clock and notice it’s getting late.
Goodnight, Gage.
Goodnight, friend.
I chuck my phone on the nightstand and cuddle into my bed. I wish I had time to date. Gage probably excels at dating. And other things .
I sigh. What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on his body. To have his big hands on me.
But it’s not to be.