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My sister rolls her eyes at me. “It’s a dance club. It’s not like I’m trying to get into the CIA.”
“Why not just go to an eighteen-plus place?” She turned eighteen last month, a few days after graduating, so she could get into those with her actual ID.
“Because those places are fucking lame. You’d know that if you ever came out with me.”
“No thanks.”
I don’t have time for partying. I’m too busy taking summer classes so I can graduate earlier than the rest of my classmates and get started on the life I want.
“Nerd,” she sighs, but I know she doesn’t mean it.
“It doesn’t even look like you.” I hold up the driver’s license.
Freya twirls, her short silver dress flaring out, her blond hair shiny around her shoulders. “They aren’t gonna look that close.”
“Mom and Dad will kill you if they find out.” I state the obvious.
“Which is why I’m going to tell them I’m staying at Kay’s house tonight.” She snatches the ID out of my hand and tucks it into her handbag. “And I am.” She sets the bag on her dresser, then snags a pair of sweatpants off the floor and pulls them on, the baggy material covering the skirt of her dress. “We’re just going out first.” She tugs her favorite T-shirt on next, the tie-dye pattern forming a flower across her chest.
I shake my head. “Good luck.”
Not wanting to be a witness to Freya lying her way past our parents, I head to my room.
I don’t bother mentioning that getting in trouble with the law could mess up her plans to attend veterinary school at the University of Minnesota. Knowing her, even if she got kicked out of college, she’d still move up north. She’s talked about nothing else since she heard about all the lakes they have, saying she’s sick of living in the desert.
I shut my bedroom door and sigh.
It’s a little weird being back here after getting used to living on campus. But we don’t have classes on Monday, so I decided to spend the weekend at home.
Free food and free laundry are hard to turn down.
Plus, I have to admit, it’s kinda nice to be around my family again.
I eye my bed.
I’m a little tempted to blow off studying so I can lie in bed and watch some crappy TV. But I don’t.
Dropping into the desk chair in the corner of the room, I flip myHealth Law and Policybook open.
I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. Probably watched too many movies growing up. But righting wrongs, being the good guy, eventually being my own boss… What more could a man want?
* * *
I rubmy eyes and look at the clock on my nightstand. Just after six, and I didn’t go to bed until after two.
I start to roll over, intending to go back to sleep, but my mom’s voice, pitched higher than usual, filters into my room through my closed door.
My parents are early risers, but not on Sundays. And Mom never raises her voice.
A pit builds in my stomach as I toss my blankets off.
In my pajamas, I head out of my room.
When I reach the top of the stairs, Dad’s voice speaks over Mom’s.
“Tell her we’ll call her back. We need to call the police.”
The pit turns into dread, and I hurry down the stairs, my bare feet quiet on the carpet.
