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Chloe: Okay, thanks.
After deciphering the rest of the recipe like it’s a freakin’ code book, I finally start on the dish. And oh my gosh, it comes outdelicious. I keep sneaking in spoonfuls before my family comes home. At this rate, there won’t be anything left for them.
While working on a salad for a side dish, the door opens and Noah walks in. He’s got a pretty bummed expression on his face as he rakes his fingers through his sandy brown hair.
“What happened?” I ask as I add olive oil to the salad.
He perches himself on a kitchen chair and rubs his hands down his face. “Just tired.”
“From?” I prompt.
“Nothing.”
I roll my eyes. “What are you even doing with your friends after school? You go there like every day.”
He shrugs. “Just hanging out.”
“And doing something that makes you come home exhausted?”
“No.”
I watch him for a few seconds before sighing. “I’m not going to tell anyone. You know I’m not a tattletale like I was when I was five.”
“I know,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’m not up to something. Just hanging out with my friends, hitting the PlayStation a bit too hard. You know how much energy it takes to shoot the undead.”
Why do I get the sense that he’s lying?
“I’ve got homework,” he says as he plucks himself off the chair and goes up to his room.
Noah is a closed book. He keeps everything to himself and barely opens up. I still consider us close, even though he doesn’t share much with me. I know I can always rely on him and that he has my back. He thinks that since he’s the older brother, it’s his job to protect me and Rylee. Which means he’s always putting us first and isn’t as concerned about his own well-being.
He also doesn’t want to cause my parents any problems. Especially Dad. My father is Brayden Barrington, who some people around here call a legend because after being quarterback in high school, he was the quarterback for the Silverton Sharks, a pro football team. It’s been Dad’s dream for Noah to follow in his footsteps, but Noah is so stressed about it. I don’t know if he actually likes football. I’ve tried telling him many times to talk to Dad about it and tell him how he feels, but of course he shoots me down. He thinks it’s his job to make our parents happy.
I think part of it has to do with the fact that my dad’s brother, my Uncle Brock, died in a car accident when he was in high school. Brock was a rising football star, and after he died, Dad felt like he had to continue his legacy and pushed himself to make quarterback just like his brother. His younger sister, my Aunt Bailey, was also quarterback—the first female football player to play for the Edenbury High Lions—and I think Noah feels like it’s up to him to keep the family tradition.
I know Dad doesn’t want to make him feel obligated to continue the legacy. All Dad wants is for us to follow our own dreams and be happy. But Noah refuses to listen to me. I would talk to my dad for him, but that would make me a tattletale. Is it worth being a tattletale if it means Noah can be happy?
“Rylee, you put yourself in danger,” Mom’s voice says as the door opens and she, Dad, and my younger sister pile into the house. “Not to mention you endangered the lives of Mia and Zoey.”
“Come on! It was an adventure,” Rylee says as she shrugs out of her jacket and pats down her straight brown hair. “This town is so boring.”
“Read a book,” Dad says. “You’ll have enough adventures there.”
“But that just makes it worse! I want to go on adventures like the characters in the books.”
“Oh, dear.” Mom rubs her forehead with a sigh.
“Were you the ringleader of this specific adventure, or was Mia or Zoey responsible?”
Rylee just beams innocently.
“What happened this time?” I ask as I toss the salad.
“Your sister decided to put her life and the lives of her best friends at risk by trespassing on private property.”
“We weren’t trespassing! No one owns the building.”
“The city does,” Mom points out. “You’re lucky you didn’t get arrested.”
