My Best Friend's Brother Read Free

frustration. I couldn’t recall his name for the life of me. Eventually, I gave up. It’s not like Lilly would quiz me. I’d just not talk about him until she mentions his name. Then I wouldn’t seem rude or like I didn’t pay attention to her. So my mind wanders—so what?
    I got to thinking about Jake, and what a jerk he turned out to be. I wanted someone nice. Someone who’s not pushy. Tragically, there’s a pretty crappy selection at my school.
    I felt myself sigh as I dozed off, forgetting about math. At least I could dream about the perfect guy.

III
    Saturday was wasted on algebra. Twenty-four hours of my life wasted solving for x . It makes me sick.
    Sunday, unreasonably loud pounding awoke me.
    “Dad wants you downstairs!” Sullivan screamed obnoxiously as his fists hit my door. Music blasted from his headphones—that damn iPod’s going to make him deaf! “He says hurry up!”
    I groaned and rubbed my eyes. I hadn’t removed my contacts before falling asleep—now my eyes were red and itchy. “Okay, Sullivan!” I barked.
    A scrumptious mushroom-and-cheese omelet aroma crept in from under my door.
    In my personal bathroom, I poked around my eyes impatiently, pulled out my contacts, soaked them briefly and put them back on. I put on a pair of hip hugger jeans and a blue shirt and ran a brush through my hair.
    Dad was at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and flipping through his beloved Writer’s Digest .
    “Good morning,” he said, without looking at me.
    “Morning, Dad.” I fell into my seat and practically inhaled the golden brown omelet, plump with melted cheddar and overflowing with mushrooms. “I’m going to the mall today,” I announced, silently hoping he’d let me. Sometimes Dad’s just in a stay-at-home kind of mood, but today he seemed passive. I think I’ve earned it, spending all of Saturday doing homework.
    He chewed his food, his eyes glued to the magazine. “Sure, sweetie,” he mumbled.
    I smiled and finished my breakfast.
    “Don’t you have homework , Adonia?” Sullivan mocked in Dad’s direction.
    I rolled my eyes.
    Sullivan has brown hair that hangs halfway down his neck, which he parts down the middle and tucks behind his ears. His eyes are hazel and his mouth is too big for his face—no surprise! He teases me about everything, and even became friends with Jake after the break up. The little pest invited him over to play video games and kept me cornered in my room.
    I shot him a look. Luckily, Dad hadn’t even looked up.
    “Jake’s coming by today,” Sullivan informed me, looking for a reaction.
    “So? I’ll be at the mall all day.” I took a sip of orange juice. “You know, I can hear your music all the way over here,” I said loudly, hoping Dad would lecture him again. But Dad still didn’t look up, and Sullivan pointed at me and laughed noiselessly.
    “What do you two want for dinner?” Dad asked lamely, still reading.
    Sullivan slammed his fists on the table. “Lasagna!”
    Dad looked bewildered. “Lasagna? For the third timethis week?”
    I shook my head and rinsed off my plate.
    “Be back by nine ,” Dad said. I turned and looked at him. “It’s a school night!” he briefed. Then he buried his head back in his magazine.
    I sighed, walked to the front door and put on my sneakers.
    “And keep that cell phone on!” he insisted from the kitchen.
    I stepped into the chilly Alaskan air, headed for Mom’s silver Jeep Grand Cherokee. She lets me drive it while she’s away. She’s in Australia until late November, doing research on the Aborigines.
    I cranked the engine and sat waiting in my seat. The car reeked of vanilla. I adjusted the automatic leather seat and carefully backed out of the long driveway. It was overcast out, like it’s going to snow. I’m not a fan of driving in snow, but it’s better than not driving at all. I haven’t crashed a car yet , and I’ve been driving since sixteen.
    For a Sunday, the mall was pretty dead.