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EIGHT
It’s a battle to keep Kayla at bay for the rest of the weekend. Monday morning, I still find the little artist creeping around my mind, poking at my restraints.
How frustrating.
Breakfast awaits downstairs, thanks to our housekeeper and cook.
Dad’s relaxed at the end of the table, scrolling through his tablet.
Britney enters and plucks a raisin bran muffin from the basket after sitting across from me.
“Oh, no.” Mom reaches over, snatching it from her plate. “Honey, you have a performance coming up. Don’t want to be sluggish and fail because you couldn’t control your tastebuds, right?”
My sister frowns but quickly replaces it with a tight smile. “No, Mom.”
“Good girl.” Mom gloats in her triumph. It’s annoying the way she controls every aspect of Britney’s life and avoids making any effort with mine. However, I refuse to give her a chance. There’s nothing she can do or say to atone for abandoning me.
I glance at my twin’s plate. There’s hardly anything on it. A few slices of apple. Avocado and tofu scramble. Even then, Britney scoops some of it aside.
“Still, you’ll need the energy,” I chime in, trying to help her.
“Brandon.” Mom treads the water with caution as she often does when addressing me. “It’s ballet. The lighter your sister’s body, the more fluid her movements will be. You don’t understand.” She sips her coffee in dismissal.
I glance at Dad, hoping he’ll intervene. But he’s either oblivious or doesn’t care.
Cutting my gaze back to my twin, I watch her pick at her food as if she’s afraid to eat in front of Mom. It’s no wonder she sneaks home snacks.
The moment we hop into my car, I speed from the house. Britney pulls down her neat ponytail and rakes her fingers through her long, blonde strands.
“Why won’t you stand up to her? I know you hate it.”
She collapses her head back against the seat. “Because it’s the only way to keep her happy.”
“Brit, you—”
“It’s fine, Bran.” She pops a gum into her mouth. “So, tell me about Kayla McNeil.”
That name incites an odd rush in my chest. “Why are you asking about her?”
“Well,” She giggles before adding, “someone saw you two leaving the party on Friday.”
I look at her briefly. “Irene is always in everybody’s business.”
“So it’s true then,” she exclaims, a little too excited.
“Yeah, I drove her home.”
Britney falls quiet for a beat. “Bran, there’s a smile on your face. Is it because of Kayla?”
Instantly, my face hardens. “What are you insinuating?”
She sniffs. “That it’s time you get a girlfriend.”
I allow myself to ponder the possibility.
There’s no denying that Kayla fascinates me. I liked being in her space, talking to her. It was calming.
Snapping out of it, I look over to find Britney watching me.
