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Chapter 7
Sierra
My heart pounded asI watched Cullen’s car drive away, it pounded as I opened the front door and it absolutely deafened me as I went downstairs to my bedroom. I emptied my backpack, arranging my homework which I’d start after dinner, and I hung my blazer and skirt in my closet, tossing my blouse and socks in the laundry hamper.
“Hi, sweetie,” Mom greeted me with a smile as I entered the kitchen. “Where’s your brother?”
“He’s not home yet?” I asked,
“Didn’t he give you a ride?” She sounded alarmed.
I opened the refrigerator door, hoping the cool air might soothe the ever-increasing burn of my cheeks. I also needed a second to formulate my response. “Uh, no, not in the end. I think he took Flynn home. So Cullen gave me a ride.”
“Can you grab the cheddar cheese while you’re there?”
“This grated one?” I held the bag out for her to see.
“Yes, please.”
“What are we having?” I asked, attempting to get the conversation on to tonight’s dinner.
“Cullen?” There was a slight lilt to her voice indicating surprise.
“Yeah,” I said, brushing over it and trying to steer the talk toward football. “It took me ages to sterilize all the bottles tonight. The team’s getting excited for the game.”
“We all are,” Mom said, and I was saved by the thunderous arrival of Sawyer, who had a habit of revving his engine to announce he was home. As if we cared about his stupid Mustang.
Sawyer’s love and attention for his car did not transfer to any other area of his life. His coat and bags were dumped in the entranceway and he kicked his shoes off as he made a beeline for the refrigerator, taking a juice bottle and downing it like the Hydration Expert hadn’t given him a single bottle all training.
“Dinner’s ready in a minute,” Mom said in a half-growl.
“I’m thirsty,” Sawyer defended, “And starving.”
“Well, did you come over for a water bottle at the end?” I shot at him, before turning to Mom and saying sarcastically, “There are some boys who think they’re all right and don’t take a drink, and then their performance drops.”
Sawyer shook his head at me as he said, “You’re so busy checking on Red Phillips the whole time.”
I swung back to him so violently that I twisted my neck. “What?”
“Red, have you had water?” Sawyer mocked me with a high pitched voice which did not sound like me at all. “Red, do you need an energy drink? Red—”
I grabbed his arm and pummeled him with my closed fist. “I do not,” I cried.
Sawyer laughed, easily pushing me away. “You do. Everyone sees it!”
