Page 99 of We Shouldn't Be Together
Dad huffs. “Because I got an attitude from Milo about it.”
“Milo doesn’t have stitches.” Mom steps into the hallway. “Milo! Come in here and help your father.”
“Mom, I can move a stupid mattress,” I argue. “I already carried Tabitha and our two bags on my own.”
“Kai, are you trying to get me to take away your car?” Dad says flatly.
I throw my hands up. “How am I the bad guy? Tabitha fell off the curb, and I picked her up. Why aren’t you applauding me?”
“Because Dr. Jones told me her foot swelled up,” Mom counters, stepping back into the bedroom.
“But he didn’t take her to the hospital,” I fire back. “He just said to put ice on it. She can walk, Mom. No big deal.”
“Wrong, Kai,” Dad cuts in. “I don’t care if she gets a splinter or an open wound. That girl got hurt around you, and I would like to think my son could show some responsibility.”
“What happened?” Milo asks, stepping into the doorway.
“Butt out,” I grunt.
“Kai,” Mom scolds. “You’re the one in the wrong, not your brother.” Mom turns to Milo. “Except you should’ve been helping your father. You know Kai’s stitches are still healing.”
Milo shrugs. “What do I care if he doesn’t get a car?”
“We care,” Dad says, snapping his fingers at Milo. “He can start driving you around.”
“Pfft,“ I mutter. “We’ll see.”
“I don’t think you understand the tone Dr. Jones used with me,” Mom says gravely. “He is very displeased with you.”
I shrug, moving out of the way as Milo takes my place beside the bed. “What’s new? He’s never liked me.”
“And what’s between you and Tabitha?” Mom questions. “Since when have you two been hanging out?”
“Since we got assigned together in chemistry class.”
“So you were studying together?”
“Nailed it.”
“I know I carry all my lab partners home,” Milo says mockingly.
“Oh, shut up, you little…”
Mom cuts me off. “Enough. Go upstairs and finish your homework. No Shadow Quest tonight.”
“Seriously?”
“Cut it out, Kai,” Dad warns. “You running that stop sign is still playing in my head.”
“Man, that was one time. You know I’ve never done that before. Call my driver’s ed teacher. He’ll vouch for me. I’m a good driver.”
“It doesn’t matter if it was the first time,” Mom says. “It still happened.”
“One more complaint,” Dad continues, “and I will take the car away.”
“But…”
Milo lifts his index finger in the air. “I heard it. That’s one.”
