Page 11 of Double Trouble

“I’m fine, Mad. I just want to go home.”

“If you’re sure…”

Her eyes narrow, and she takes a step away from me, crossing her arms. “Stop being my mom, okay. You’re my sister.”

Whoa. “Where’d that come from?”

A wave of regret flashes through her eyes, but she blinks it away and shakes her head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“No… Dem, what’s going on?”

A wall of tears form, but she doesn’t let anything fall. She swivels from me, and my stomach clenches. It’s in my nature to mother her, to protect her, to ask what’s going on, assure her she can talk to me, and to let her know I’m used to mood swings. Hell, every girl is.

But she doesn’t want me to mother, and for the life of me, I have no idea how to be a sister.

I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. “Okay, brat,” I say, letting the tease slip into my voice even though I’m worried as all get out. “I’ll take you home, but you owe me a cheesy pretzel.”

She whips around to face me, and her eyes that seem so frustrated and confused and sad slowly seep into amusement. Relief spreads through my chest, and I keep going in the direction I landed on. Whatever gets my sister to be happy, no matter how briefly.

Preteens are so fun.

We head out of Claire’s, and before we exit for the parking garage, Demi suddenly changes her mind and says, “I might as well get you that cheesy pretzel while we’re here.”

So we switch gears and sit at an empty booth in the food court, three pretzels, a pack of pretzel bites, and seven different dipping sauces strewn across the table. Since she didn’t beg for a Beanie Boo or any other number of accessories in Claire’s, I had enough for a smorgasbord.

I’m dying to ask her what her deal is, but I don’t want to disturb the peace either, so I keep my trap shut.

“So… where did you go last night?” she pipes up around a piece of her parmesan pretzel. I choke on the cheesy sauce and take a swig of water before answering.

“Uh… nowhere?”

She levels me with her piercing eleven-year-old gaze that sees right through my bullshit. I can’t exactly tell her I was boarding. She’ll ask where, becausenowherelets you board that late without a trespassing charge. And if I tell her the truth, she’ll bark it out at either Pete or Candace, and there goes Tanner’s job.

“Were you with a boy?”

Ah… so that’s the direction she’s hinting at. I let out a laugh and rip a piece off my cinnamon pretzel and dunk it in the icing. “You wish.”

“For real! You need a boyfriend, Mad.”

“Why?” I wrinkle my nose for effect. “He’d just get in the way.”

“Well, Pete thinks you’re jealous,” she says unapologetically, taking a dainty bite from her pretzel. Cheese collects in the corner, and she’s horrified for the brief second it takes for her to wipe it up.

“Jealous of what? Him and Candace?”

“Yep. That’s why you’ve been acting funny since he showed us the ring.”

Guess I haven’t been as poker-faced as I thought. It’s funny how their thoughts went that direction and not in the actual problem, and theyarefamily. While Tanner was on the nose.

I plop another piece into my mouth and lick the icing from the corner instead of dabbing with a napkin. “I’m happy for them.”

“That’s what you say.”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“Then why do you look so sad when you say it?”

Pete and I have a pact never to let Demi experience the hardships we had to at her age, and venting about my money woes would break that pact in half.

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