Love? Maybe. Read Free Page A

from next door, is just setting his recycling out, too. Their dog, Duncan, runs circles around his legs. I wave hello and start to ask him when Charlie is getting back, but I guess he doesn’t hear me because he quickly heads back inside, Duncan following close at his heels.
     
    I walk back into the house and peek at Dom and Lucy, who are thankfully still parked in front of cartoons. I return to the kitchen and pull out the jar of peanut butter and a spoon. Gross, I know, but whatever. I’m just about to take my first bite when the phone rings. (Jillian wonders how I stay so thin. Big secret: no time to eat.)
     
    “Hello?” All I can hear is sniffling. Then my name, soft and watery.
     
    “Claire?” More sniffling.
     
    “He still hasn’t called.” Another sniff. “Why hasn’t he called?” I look up at the ceiling. Here is where things get tricky. Do I tell her he’s probably just busy or out of range? Or do I tell her what I’m pretty sure she already suspects. I mean, I like Stuart in general, but he’s never really been the great guy that Claire thinks he is.
     
    There’s really no choice. Even over the phone, I’m a terrible liar. “Claire, I think—”
     
    “Pipe, I gotta go. Stuart’s on the other line. See you tomorrow.” She’s gone before I can even say good-bye. I want to tell her to stop being so available, to stop making herself nuts over him, but then I don’t even pretend to know what love feels like. I sigh and put my phone back on the counter. Hopefully Stuart has an awesome excuse, like he fell off the ski lift and is in a full body cast. Or maybe he’ll just tell Claire the truth. I won’t hold my breath for either.
     
    “Dom! Luce! Let’s get cleaned up for bed.” I brace myself for the tears and the begging, but instead they’re totally quiet. With them, quiet means trouble. I walk into the living room and see Dom holding Miss Kitty, our fifteen-year-old cat, on his lap while Lucy uses a purple Sharpie to draw curlicues all over her white fur. Mac and cheese, love-struck friends, a tattooed cat, and an exploding sink. Just another day in the life of Piper Paisley.
     

chapter two
     
    J ust one more chapter?” Lucy begs.
    “No,” I say. “You have to get to sleep.”
     
    “Mom always reads us two,” Dom says.
     
    He’s right. “Okay, one more and then bed.” They both nod. I settle back into the beanbag. At this rate, I’ll never get my English paper finished. I hate admitting it, but sometimes I resent my mom for dumping all of this on me. But then I’ll look at Lucy’s sweet smile, or Dom will say something that makes me laugh harder than I can ever remember laughing and I’ll feel really lucky to be so close to them. That is, until they do something awful, like shaking up a can of soda and opening it just to see how far it will spray. (The answer is all over my laptop.)
     
    I finally get Lucy and Dom to bed with promises to send Mom up when she gets home. Feeling sticky-nasty fromchocolates, cheese sauce, and the four spoonfuls of peanut butter that were my dinner, I decide on a shower. I stand under the hot water until I realize it’s making me sleepy. Knowing I still have about two hours of homework in front of me, I twist the knob, sending cold water raining down on me. I have to stifle a scream. It’s horrible, but it does the trick. I am definitely awake.
     
    I hurry into my pajamas, trying to make my teeth stop chattering. I drag my newly refurbished laptop onto the bed and open a new file. I stare at the blinking cursor until it threatens to hypnotize me. I have to write five to seven pages of brilliance and I can’t even come up with a title for my paper. “Focus,” I tell myself. If I can’t finish this paper tonight, I’m going to have to rework my schedule for the rest of the week. I rub my eyes, trying to concentrate, but then I hear a noise on the roof.
     
    Normally, noises on roofs scare people, but not me. A noise on my roof