Page 1 of And Now, Back to You

CHAPTER 1

JACKSON

“Do you believe in fate?”

“I believe that you should put your shoes on,” I answer without looking up from the toaster oven.

“Answer the question first.”

“I don’t think I will, thanks.”

I slept like garbage last night. There’s an unidentified substance on one of my glasses lenses from packing lunches. I had to switch my Tuesday shirt with my Thursday shirt after an unfortunate incident with the peanut butter jar, and the only thing holding me together is the hope and glory of the emergency cruffin that’s currently in the toaster oven. I refuse to burn it.

Adeline huffs. “This is a serious question, Jackson.”

“A serious question at half past seven on a Tuesday morning is not a serious question, Addie.”

She is undeterred next to me, starry-eyed and shoveling Lucky Charms into her mouth. A horseshoe marshmallow flies into the sink.

“Do you believe in fate?” she asks again.

“Do I believe in cosmic forces that guide our decision-making and lead us on a predestined path to an already decided end?” I twist the toaster oven knob hard to the right. “Absolutely not.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? After everything we’ve been through?” Adeline hip-checks me on the way to return the cereal box she’s been eating directly out of, her face a teenage mask of outrage. “Don’t you think fate brought me, you, and Penelope together?”

I snort. “No. I believe Child Protective Services brought us together. Custody hearings. Our mother’s inability to be a responsible parent.” I nod toward the front hallway. “Shoes, please. We’re running late.”

“I need my bonus cereal first.” Adeline exchanges the Lucky Charms for the Froot Loops and pours them into a rogue coffee mug, exactly one piece of cereal at a time. I stand at the toaster oven and try not to have a mental breakdown.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”

She slants me a look only a fifteen-year-old can. “What?”

“The thing with the cereal.”

Another three loops hit the sides of her container. Plop. Plop. Plop. She stares at me with a smirk. “What thing with the cereal?”

“Never mind.” I don’t have time for this. I pop open the front of the toaster oven and slide out the tiny tray holding my sanity. “Where’s your sister?”

“Why is she my sister when she’s late, but your sister when she’s ordering that weird hippie pizza you like?”

I carefully wrap the cruffin in a paper towel and cradle it close to my chest. Like a newborn.

Adeline frowns. “Did you sleep last night?”

“I did.” Four hours, give or take, but I was definitely unconscious at some point.

“Don’t lie to me. You’re eating your emergency cruffin and you’re being more snippy than usual.”

“I’m never snippy.” I grab the cereal box out of her hand and put it back in the pantry behind us, ignoring her pout. “And I’m not that predictable.”

“Jackson,” Adeline says. “You’re the most predictable person I know.”

She hikes her backpack higher over her shoulder, her dark blond hair swinging in the ponytail she tugged it into. For all the things my mother did lack—common sense, the concept of a schedule, the ability to remember to feed her children—she didn’t miss when it came to passing on her genetics.

Honey blond hair with just a hint of curl. Pale blue eyes. The way our bottom lip dips on one side when we smile. Adeline, Penelope, and I might as well be carbon copies of one another, different fathers be damned.

“Why do we have to leave so early?” Adeline whines.