Page 18 of We Shouldn't Be Together
I bound up the stairs, two at a time, dart across our upstairs living room, and land at Milo’s open doorway. “Dude. Hurry up.”
Milo’s shoving books into his backpack. “Gimme a minute. I’m doingyoua favor, you know.”
“No, you’re sabotaging me. You’re not as clever as you think you are.”
Milo fusses with his bag, and no longer able to stand it, I move across the room and retrieve his tie.
“What are you doing?” he complains.
I place the tie around my neck and start loosely doing it up. “I’m getting you ready. Put your blazer on, would you?”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
I roll my eyes. “Mom told me to. Now just get your stuff together so we can go.”
Milo relents, grabbing his school blazer from its hanger. I finish tying his tie and pull it off my neck. “Here,” I say, flinging it at him. I then lift his backpack off his desk chair and march toward his doorway. “Move it.”
Milo follows me out. “Why are you acting like I’m a child?”
“I don’t want any clumsy accidents this morning. I just want to go for a run and do some drills before boring classes begin.” I throw my head back in annoyance, descending the stairs as fast as I can. “Can I just have this, Milo? Can I have agoodstart to my day? You get to read, and I get to run. It’s a win-win.”
Milo thuds his way downstairs behind me. “Okay, okay. Whatever.”
“Finally,” Mom says, and it takes all my strength not to blow up at her.
What does she mean,finally? It’s both their faults that this has takenforever.
“Doof,“ sounds behind me.
My shoulders tense as I turn back toward the stairs. “Ugh. Seriously?”
Milo’s straightening himself out after tripping on the last stair.
“You okay, honey?” Mom asks.
Milo smooths down his blazer and then grabs his backpack from me. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Mom, maybe you should look into if there’s such a thing as walking lessons,” I half-joke as I follow Mom out to the garage.
“Pfft. You’re one to talk,“ Milo mutters behind me.
I hurl my soccer bag and my school backpack into the trunk of Mom’s SUV. “What are you getting at?”
“You’re the one who ends up in the emergency room all the time,” Milo replies, sitting his bag next to mine.
“What a bunch of bull. I don’t end up in emergencyall the time.”
“It’s enough times to have lost count.”
“Whatever.” I reach up and lower the rear door of the SUV. “It has only happened because I go out and live in the real world. I don’t just fantasize about it in books.”
He looks down his nose at me, his glasses slightly sliding. “So, what’s your point, Kai? Do you want me not to trip over? Or do you want me to follow what you do and get hurt worse?”
I roll my eyes.Obviouslynot the latter. But the words don’t come out.
“Boys, move it!” Mom shouts from the driver’s seat.
I shove Milo to the side so he’ll get in the car and then book it around the other side to the front passenger seat. “What are we waiting for?” I ask, jumping in and pulling my seatbelt across. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
