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9
“but all the boys, they crowd around.”
Walks Like Rihanna, The Wanted
Joshua
The dining room felt like a battlefield of unease. The only sound puncturing the tense air was the clinking of cutlery against plates. My mom and Ms. Whitlock were the only ones making conversation until their conversation stumbled. I ate another forkful of food to distract myself.
“So, Sawyer.” My mom said. “I heard you’re hoping to be a painter.”
“That’s the plan.” She said before blushing.
“She’d have to let people see it for that to happen.” Noah chimed in.
“Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
Ms. Whitlock cleared her throat.
“Can you both behave?”
My mom laughed that infectious laugh of hers. The one that made you laugh, too.
“I’m glad it’s not just my kids.”
My dad snorted.
“Some more than others.”
Asher dropped his fork. The outrageous clink it made didn’t crack the plate, which surprised me.
“Was that aimed at me?”
Their eyes narrowed as tension crackled in the air.
“If the shoe fits.”
My mom and Ms. Whitlock exchanged looks. I’m certain my mom had brought up the sudden tension between Asher and my father to her oldest friend, but now she’s witnessed it.
“Asher’s grades have been slipping lately.” My mom said.
He hit the palms of his hand on the table. Gracie jumped beside me.
“Let’s report it to the local news too, Mom.”
“Sawyer used to tutor back home.” Her mom said. “I’m sure she’d be so glad to help.”
She choked on her mashed potatoes.
“I would?”
Asher put his hand on his heart as he looked at Sawyer.
“You’d do that for me?” He said with artificial kindness. “You’re a sweetheart.”
