“Good.” She nods. “Your dad told me you know about the move.”
Brow arched, I scan the dozens of boxes then nod.
“Okay, then go start packing. I left boxes in your room. We want to be moved in by next Friday.”
She goes back to the living room while I stand in the foyer, once again considering running away from this place and from my mom.
CHAPTER 4
our new family
MIA
Age 13
October
“Yes!”I squeal, throwing my hand in the air, still holding tight to the controller. “Kitana wins” is displayed on the huge TV in the living room.
Chiara falls back onto the couch, groaning. “I hate being your punching bag.”
“Stop sulking. It’s only the second time I’ve won—today.” I side-eye my best friend.
She gives me the middle finger and focuses on the screen,Mortal Kombatpulled up. I keep smiling, determined to hold on to my good mood no matter what. But instead of selecting a player, Chia puts the controller on the coffee table and turns to me.
“There’s no way your mom won’t let you celebrate your birthday.”
“Icancelebrate it.” I set the controller aside. “But I’m not allowed to throw a party or invite anyone over. It’ll probably just be a family day…without one big, important part of my family.”
“Your dad won’t be here?”
“He can’t get out of having dinner with the Dean on Friday. He’s flying home on Saturday morning, when?—”
“It will already be Halloween,” she finishes for me. “Damn, Mia, I’m so sorry! I really thought your mom would ease up on the punishment for your birthday.”
I shrug. “I barely even see her. She’s always either busy with her shop or with Allan. It’s kind of gross how lovey-dovey they are, so I do my best to avoid them.”
She grins. “They are so cute together.”
I glare at her.
“I know you’re doing your best,” she says, “but you’re still way too judgy of them. It doesn’t suit you.”
Loud laughter comes through the open door of the living room, saving me from saying something I might regret. As the voices get closer, I tense, willing myself to keep my eyes on my best friend. But, of course, the moment a shadow darkens the doorway, I whip my head around to take a look.
Matt and Dominic pause at the threshold, taking up every inch of space with their six-foot-plus frames. While my brother arches a brow, like he’s curious about what we’re up to, his best friend leans against the doorjamb, wearing a vacant expression.
“What are you doing here?” Matt asks, heading toward the couch.
I choose to focus on him. “What does it look like?”
“We came to play too,” Dominic says as he straightens and steps fully into the room.
“Sorry, but we were here first.” I return my attention to the TV, ignoring the tingles spreading down my spine that zip through me every time he’s close. Since we moved into this house six weeks ago, things have gotten exponentially worse, at least when it comes to my crush on Dominic, the guy who has been referred to more than once as my—ugh—stepbrother.
The number of times I’ve caught myself ogling him or daydreaming about our future is mortifying.
Matt plops down on the couch between Chiara and me and drapes his arm over my shoulder, tugging me closer. “How about a knockout game? Dom and I will play against you two, and whoever wins stays. Losers find somewhere else to hang out.”