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“Do you?” Sam. Sam. Sam.
No hand. I don’t answer.
“She doesn’t,” Owen says.
I huff, stabbing him with a glare. “No. I don’t. But I did. In fact, I just got out of a relationship. Plus—” I flail both my hands in the air with no real direction or reason—“some people are just meant to be friends.”
“How do you know?” asks Sam.
“I just know, okay.”
“That’s not a very good answer for an advice columnist.”
“If you don’t raise your hand, Sam”—I point at him—“then I don’t have to answer!”
A little blonde girl in the middle of this mess raises her hand half high and I’m already six feet under, so why not? I point at her.
“I like your shoes.”
I hold my head high. “Thank you,” I say before backing up into Owen’s desk and picking up my coffee. “Chapter summary!” I bark before anyone has time to say more. I nod and bolt for the door.
I’m halfway down the hall when a hand on my wrist stops me short. “Annie,” Owen says. “You okay?”
I blow out a tired breath. “I am not strong enough for middle school. I have no idea how you do this every day, Owen.” I shake my head, certain I just burned a thousand calories. That was a workout. “I’ll talk to you tonight.”
27
Owen
Iknock on Levi’s front door until a spark of pain shoots through my fist. I hardly feel it—my blood is pumping.
My brother answers with a glower on his face.
“Hey,” I say, unfazed by Levi’s frown. “Where’s Meredith?”
“At her place.”
Which happens to be next door.
“Wait. You’re home and she’s home and you aren’t together. Did you do something stupid? Do you need to apologize?” My brows knit. It’s rare to see Levi without Meredith these days—unless she’s in class, and she isn’t. She doesn’t have class after three any weekday.
“Why do you assume that I’ve done something? Maybe she needs to apologize.” He glares, and when I say nothing, adds, “She doesn’t, of course. But neither do I. I was just grabbing some paprika.”
“Paprika?”
Levi holds up the red spice in his hand and shakes it. The thing is, I’m normally polite and interested and kind—but right this second, I just want to ask Meredith a question. So, I snatchthe paprika from Levi’s hand, trot down the steps of his duplex home, and walk right next door to where Meredith lives in this connected townhome.
I’m surprised my brother hasn’t just knocked down a wall and made it one big house.
I knock on Meredith’s door, paprika in my fist, but Levi pushes past me and opens the entrance.
Spices and savory scents fill the air—as well as sizzling meat sounding from the kitchen.
“Owen,” Meredith says with a grin. “I wondered why Levi knocked.”
I hold out the paprika for her.
“Levi’s teaching me to make chicken piccata. Do you want to stay for dinner?”
