Page 7 of Summer Reading

Chapter Three

“We’re going to be late, Sam!” Tyler said. He paced around the island in the kitchen while I removed the pots and lids to arrange them in a more efficient way to utilize the limited cupboard space. Dad and Stephanie had left on the red-eye out of Boston the night before, and I wasted no time in making the kitchen mine.

I had no idea why I felt the need to do this now. To put my stamp on the room that held so many memories for me of cooking at Vovó’s side? Maybe.

I knew we had to leave. I knew I didn’t have time to finish this project, so why had I started it? It was just the way I was wired. I’d always struggled with multitasking because my dyslexia disorganization would hit and I’d get sidetracked, and before I finished one project I was off on another and then another, forgetting the original task. This, of course, sent my anxiety into hyperdrive. Honestly, some days it was exhausting being in my own head.

“I’m almost done,” I said. Feeling the need todefend myself, I added, “Besides, it’s just camp. It’s not like school, where they take attendance.”

“Are you kidding me?” he cried. He dug a hand into his thick black hair as if he wanted to pull it out by the roots. “This robotics camp is sponsored by Severin Robotics. If I want to get into their science academy this fall, then I have to make a good impression. I have to be the best every single day, and it has to start with arriving first!”

“Relax, we won’t be late,” I said. The bro was wrapped pretty tight, and I noted this as a person who playedMortal Kombatwith her own anxiety on a daily basis. “And finish your French toast.”

“I did,” he said. The words were pushed out through gritted teeth as if that was the only way he could keep himself from shouting at me. I glanced at the sink. Sure enough, his empty plate was sitting at the bottom. Huh.

The pile of pots and pans was calling to me. I really wanted to finish sorting them before we left, but Tyler was not having it.

“Sam, now... please.” He struck a pleading stance with sad eyes and his hands clutched in front of his chest, softening the demand.

“You sound an awful lot like Dad when you get all bossy,” I said. I grabbed the keys to Stephanie’s SUV and my shoulder bag and strode out the door.

“Sorry. It’s just this is really important to me,” he said.

We climbed in and I backed out of the driveway, turning onto the road. I gestured at the sign posted on the side. “I can only go so fast. The speed limit is seven miles per hour.”

“Ugh!” Tyler groaned and clapped his palm to his forehead.

“Is this really how you want to spend your entire summer?” I asked. A bicyclist cut in front of me, and I had to slow down even more. I saw Tyler wiggle in the seat beside me. I half expected him to open the door and run to the library. “There’s so much to do on the island. You could be out sailing, biking, playing tennis, or just loafing on the beach. Why do you want to spend it indoors all day?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said. The way he said it, so dismissively, as if I wasn’t intelligent enough to appreciate his genius, really smarted, and being the mature twenty-eight-year-old that I am, I naturally clapped back.

“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t understand. At your age, I was too busy having fun.”

It was a shit thing to say. Ty’s mouth tightened, and he turned his head away. I felt like a complete asshole.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, you did,” he interrupted. “Just forget it.”

I blew out a breath. Right. The subtext to his words sounded more like “forget you,” and I couldn’t reallyblame him. I was supposed to be the mature older sister. It was time I started acting like it.

“I’m not going to forget it,” I said. I turned onto the road for the library. It was a long one, passing several older homes. I turned left at the top of the short hill, drove past a building under construction, and parked in front of the two-story gray building with the bright white trim. Tyler was out of the car before I had fully parked, and I had to jog to catch up to him.

A large dogwood tree was in full bloom to the right of the entrance. A book truck was parked to the left of the front door, offering activity grab bags for local kids. Genius! The sliding doors were just closing behind Tyler when I hurried in behind him. He took the stairs two at a time, using his long legs to his advantage. I hustled after him.

On the upper level, I passed the service desk and was gaining on Tyler when he stopped short. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder, and it cushioned my impact as I slammed into him.

He stumbled forward, catching himself on a bookcase. His brown eyes were wide when he turned to glare at me. He hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Walking you to camp,” I teased.

Before I could explain that I’d actually come in to see my best friend, there was a giggle from the other side of the bookshelf. I hunkered down and peeredthrough the books, where I saw two teen girls staring at us. Tyler went redder than the peppers I grind for my pimenta moída, Portuguese pepper sauce. I smiled and waved at the girls, and they giggled again before dashing toward a room on the far side of the building.

“You’re a menace,” Tyler said. “Stay here. Do not walk me to the door.” The look of fury he sent me almost seared my eyebrows off. He spun around and stormed off after the girls.

“Pick you up at five,” I shouted after him.

He waved a hand at me without looking back. Well, that put me in my place, now, didn’t it?

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