Home > My Sweetest Escape (My Favorite Mistake #2)(11)

My Sweetest Escape (My Favorite Mistake #2)(11)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

“Take that, bitches,” Renee said, pointing at them. “In your face.” She started doing a dance that was somewhere between slutty club dancing and a weird touchdown dance hybrid. The guys all booed and threw things at her. I just shook my head. That was my sister.

“I’m hoping those moves are genetic,” said a voice so close that I slid off my perch on the arm of the couch. Luckily, I was able to catch myself before my butt hit the floor. Everyone else was too distracted by Renee’s victory dance.

“You know it’s rude to sneak up behind people,” I said, turning to face Dusty, who had somehow managed to get off the couch and creep up behind me.

“You know it’s rude to tell everyone that a fellow has a rash on his dick when he doesn’t.” He crossed his arms and leaned down, challenging me. “So what do you have to say to that, Red?”

Yeah, should have stayed in my cave.

“Nothing. I have nothing to say to you.”

Fortunately, Mase interrupted us.

“Little Ne, you want to take a turn?” The video-game-master gene seemed to have skipped me and just been concentrated in Renee. I turned away from Dusty. Hunter was watching us with fascination. Ugh, that was the last thing I needed.

“No, I’m good,” I said, stepping around Dusty and taking the seat he’d vacated on the couch and claiming it as mine. I shot him a smile, and he just pretended to clap again before going to the kitchen and dragging in one of the dining room chairs.

* * *

Renee was still kicking ass when my phone rang with a call from Mom. Just what I needed. I got up from the couch and headed for my cave. No way I was talking to her in front of everyone.

“Hey, Mom.” I heard screaming in the background, but that was par for the course. Mom always called me when she was doing a million other things.

“Hey, Jos.” Her voice was tense, but less tense than it had been earlier in the week. We’d somehow made our way onto less-shaky ground, but that didn’t mean she was any less pissed at me. “You ready to start classes tomorrow?” A shriek meant that she was probably taking something away from one of the twins.

“As I’ll ever be.” I didn’t have a choice. They wouldn’t even let me drop out when I’d suggested it as a potential solution to my academic implosion. I could get a place and a job and then they’d get off my back. I wouldn’t waste their money—or the government’s. Win-win situation. Or so I’d thought. Mom had acted like I’d just told her I’d brutally slaughtered a bunch of people, and Dad just hung up on me when I pitched it to him after striking out with her. And Renee had threatened to strangle me for even mentioning it.

“Well, I want a full report when you get back, you hear? I swear, if I get a call from your sister telling me that you’ve skipped, there will be hell to pay.”

“I know, I know.”

“Okay, then. No, you cannot have cookies for dinner. How many times do I have to tell you that?” I waited for her to be done yelling at whichever of my siblings had the audacity to want cookies for dinner.

“Listen, I’ve got a tantrum brewing here, and Chuck is working late, so I’m on my own. Can I call you later?”

“Yeah, sure.” She never would.

“’Bye, Jos. Say goodbye to Jos, everybody!” She must have held the phone up, and I heard a chorus of my siblings saying goodbye.

“’Bye, everybody,” I yelled back. Then the chaos resumed and then the call died. So much for that. I put my phone back in my pocket and went up the stairs.

Hunter and Dusty were going crazy with a rendition of “Everybody Talks” by Neon Trees. Dusty was also banging out the rhythm on his chair. The video game had been abandoned, and everyone else was humming along, including Renee. I stood back and hovered, not wanting to bust into the musical bubble. The song ended and Renee gave me a look. She probably wanted a play-by-play of the conversation with Mom. It wasn’t really anything earth-shattering, so I just sat back down on the couch as they finished the song.

“Okay, my turn. ‘Scream,’ Usher. Go,” Dusty said before starting a set of vocal gymnastics that were even more impressive than what I’d heard already. Okay, okay, you’re talented. We get the message. As soon as Hunter started singing, Mase jumped up and started dancing. Dev hopped up and they somehow managed to dance in the small space without breaking anything. I would have thought Darah would have been tweaking out about the possibility of one of the carefully arranged pictures or vases or any of the other really nice things being smashed by her boyfriend’s sick dance moves, but she just smiled and watched with her chin in her hands. Idiots. They were all idiots.

The singing went on for a while and then someone mentioned food and then that was all anyone could talk about, so the group reached a consensus that a night out was in order.

“Yeah, we never got to celebrate the new member of the Yellowfield House family,” Taylor said while everyone yelled out suggestions. That made everyone turn to me, including Dusty.

“So, you get to pick the place,” Taylor said. Even though she was not that much older than me, when she talked everyone seemed to listen. She was the shortest one, too.

“Um, I don’t even know what’s around here.” I’d wanted to go out and see what was around Bangor, but Renee had been totally down on that. I might actually have fun, and that was definitely against the rules.

And then they all started talking at once, each pitching for their favorite place, telling me which had the best steaks or pizza or bread sticks. Jesus, they were loud.

“Whoa, hold up,” I said. “I can’t think straight when you’re all yelling at me. We need to, like, do this democratically.”

Darah piped up.

“How about everyone writes their choices on pieces of paper and then Jos will pick one?”

That made everyone but Dusty burst into raucous laughter.

“Yeah, because it worked out so well before,” Taylor said, poking Hunter in the chest. He just grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“Pretty swell, I’d say.”

I gave Dusty a look, because he was the only other person who wasn’t enjoying the inside joke.

“Okay, then,” Dusty said, ripping a piece of notebook paper out of one that someone had been doing homework in earlier. “My choice is Sea Dog. Who’s next?” He wrote down everyone’s choices and then tore the slips in equal pieces, folded them up and tossed them in one of Mase’s hats.

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