Flat-Out Celeste Read Free Page A

your own, and in all ways performing to standards that exceed even the high ones our mother set for you.” She frowned as he chewed on the fries. “Did you not eat?”
    “I did. A Big Papi burger and a Fiscal Cliff. But you can never have enough sweet potato fries.”
    “I have a finite amount of my own from which you are stealing. But I shall not complain because this was very kind of you.”
    Matt chewed and studied her. “Are you okay?”
    “Why do you ask?”
    “No contractions. When you’re stressed out, they disappear.”
    “I know. But most days, I do not care to use them. If it is an effort, then I do not push.”
    “Okay. I get it.” He chewed for a minute. “I heard your presentation went well. Did your friends like it?”
    “It went marvelously. My friend Dallas took me aside to offer quite the list of compliments.”
    “That’s great, Celeste.” He was downing half of her iced tea.
    “And then I bitch-slapped her.”
    Matt choked on the drink and desperately tried to clear his airway. “I’m sorry. You did what?”
    She cocked her head. “I bitch-slapped her.”
    “That… that can’t be right,” he sputtered. “I mean, I hope it’s not.”
    “I slapped my hand against her hand. Up in the air.” She looked at Matt blankly. “Is that not the right term?”
    “Thank God, no, it’s not. I think you mean a high-five.”
    “If you say so. Well, either way, it happened. You know I have trouble with colloquialisms, so I resent your shocked reaction.”
    “I do know that about you, and I apologize.”
    “Since we are on the subject, there is something else I would like for you to clarify.”
    “Shoot.”
    “What is meant by ‘nut bag’? Is that a testicular reference or merely the identification of a satchel of cashews or pecans?”
    Matt groaned. “This conversation has gotten really weird. Could we just talk about— Wait a minute. Why are you asking me this? Did someone say that to you?” He looked angry.
    Celeste picked at her fry. “No. Certainly not. I heard the term and had a natural curiosity.”
    “Okay then…” Her brother crumpled up the paper bag and then smoothed it out in his hands. Then crumpled it again. “It’s the same as ‘nuts.’ You know, crazy.”
    “Thank you for the definition.” She took the last bite of her burger and wiped her hands on one of the paper napkins. It shouldn’t matter what her classmates thought of her. Celeste would just be strong about this. She would move on. “I got an email from someone at a college in San Diego.”
    “Oh?” Matt continued to avoid looking at her.
    “Yes. It’s called Barton College. It’s in San Diego,” she said pointedly.
    “I heard you the first time.”
    “Julie is in Los Angeles.”
    “I know where Julie is.”
    She waited, but Matt said nothing else. “Maybe I will go to school there, and then you will be forced to come visit me, and you two will be in the same state.”
    Matt sat up and threw the bag across the room and into the trash can. “Celeste… Knock it off, okay?”
    The door to her room swinging open and a simultaneous knock interrupted them.
    “Celeste? Oh, hey, Matt! What are you doing here?” Their father, Roger, stepped into the room, still in his corduroy pants and cable-knit sweater that he’d worn to work. “I didn’t hear you sneak in, but— Oh, you brought food? What is that I smell? Burgers?” He gently shut the door and tiptoed across the room. “Gimme, gimme!”
    Celeste had to laugh. “We have already eaten.”
    “Oh, that’s nice, Celeste. You left me alone to eat all of that couscous lasagna that your mother made? I’m all for experimenting, but that thing was a dud.”
    “I did not ask Matthew to bring me a burger, but I am sorry that you had an unpleasant meal. We were afraid it was stuffed peppers tonight, but that sounds even worse.”
    Matt made gagging noises. “And how exactly does one turn couscous into lasagna?”
    “I don’t know…