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RaelynnOne Week Later
I huffed to myself. “Come on, where the hell is it?”
Mom poked her head in my room. “Whatcha looking for, sweetheart?”
“Nothing. Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Sure you don’t need any help?”
I shook my head as I rushed around my room, listening as papers fluttered everywhere. I cursed myself, catching them out of thin air before piling them into a wrinkled ball within the palm of my hand. My eyes darted around the room. I had way too many things I needed to lug to school today. I had my homework and Clint’s homework. My books and his books. Today was an exciting day, and I needed to make sure it all went off without a hitch.
“Sweetheart, sure you don’t—”
I held up my hand. “Just give me a second to recuperate. I know it’s in here somewhere.”
“What’s in here somewhere?”
“That damn history book,” I murmured.
Mom let out a soft giggle and I looked over at her. She had her arms crossed around her chest and her head shook itself at me. The look in her eye was skeptical. But the smile on her face was telling. It made me blush underneath her gaze. It gave me pause as to just how much was rushing through my mind.
And on Clint’s behalf, too.
“Have you checked under your bed?”
I sighed. “Nothing ever gets kicked under my bed, Mom. I’m not twelve anymore.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes the one place where I find things are the last place I figured I’d find them.”
I dropped down to my knees. “It’s not going to be under my bed. I promise you, out of all the pla—”
Mom laughed as my words stopped in my tracks. I rolled my eyes as I reached under the bed, feeling my fingertips fall against the hardback cover of Clint’s history textbook. I swallowed my grumbles and tried to find the hilarity in the situation. I grinned as my mother’s laughter grew to almost fiendish volumes.
“Can you keep it down up there? I’ve only got one cup of coffee in me!”
Mom snickered. “Sorry, Deej!”
I rolled my eyes as I stood up. I hated that man. I hated him with every ounce of me I had. But there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about his presence. I stood up with the book in my hand and slipped it into my shoulder satchel, then rifled through the papers on the bed.
“This goes with that. This goes here. Oh, that’s mine. Yikes. And… where’s the last page of this paper?”
I looked around the room before Mom cleared her throat.
“You mean this?”
I looked over at her and I found her clutching a sheet of paper. I walked over and saw the last little bit of typed information I needed for Clint’s history paper. I took it from her with a thankful smile, then placed it with the rest of the sheets of paper. I clipped it, slipped it on top of his history book, then sandwiched it between that and his English book.
I needed to make sure I didn’t accidentally turn in my homework as his.
Mom giggled. “Do you need a ride to school?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’ve got it.”
“Are you sure? That bag looks pretty—”
I heaved the shoulder strap over my body, grunting as I situated it. Yes, it was heavy. But I didn’t want a ride to school from Mom. Because I knew what that entailed before she even said it.
“I’m fine, Mom. Really. I’ll be good. Just need a bit of an earlier start.”
