The Evolution of Mara Dyer (Mara Dyer #2)(42)

“Tell your mom I’m off to work on her list,” Dad said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be back soon.”

I nodded and shut the door. He didn’t drive away until I was inside the house.

Machine gun fire erupted from our family room, and I entered it to find Noah and Joseph slouched on the floor with controllers in their hands, their eyes glued to the TV.

Our conversation would have to wait.

“How was fishing?” I asked, in a casual voice that did not suit my mood. I walked through the archway into the kitchen and opened the fridge. I was hungry, but nothing looked good.

“We did not, in fact, go fishing,” Noah answered, still squinting at the screen.

“What? Why?”

Joseph rocked forward, gripping his controller fiercely. He didn’t speak.

“Joseph didn’t want to kill any fish, though he seems to have no problem killing—you bastard.”

Something exploded loudly and my brother dropped the controller, raising both hands in the air. “The champion is undefeated.” He flashed an obnoxious smirk at Noah.

“Good for you,” I said.

Noah shot me a look. “Where’s the loyalty?”

“I meant about the fish, but for the game, too.” I high-fived my brother and then I flashed an obnoxious smirk of my own. “Blood over boys.”

“You’re both evil.”

“I’m going to be a vegetarian,” Joseph told me.

“Mom will think I put you up to it.” I hadn’t eaten meat since the Santeria birthday show; every time I looked at it, I tasted blood in my mouth.

I dropped onto the couch. “So what did you guys do if you didn’t fish?”

“We went out on the boat and watched for dolphins,” Joseph said.

“Jealous. Did you see any?”

Noah nodded. “A small pod. We had to go out pretty far.”

“The boat was so cool,” Joseph said. “You can come with us next time.”

I grinned. “That’s very generous of you.”

“Well,” Noah said, standing up and stretching. His fingers touched the ceiling. “I don’t know about you, but after letting your brother win, I’m quite famished.”

Joseph slit his eyes at Noah. “Liar.”

“Prove it,” Noah shot back.

“I can prove it.”

“All right,” I said, “this rivalry is getting a little intense. Yes, Noah, I’m hungry.”

“Then if you’ll pardon me, nemesis,” he said to Joseph. “We will rematch another day.”

“You’ll still lose.”

The corner of Noah’s mouth lifted as he walked to the kitchen. I joined him and watched him rummage in the refrigerator.

“Fancy a . . . cucumber?” he said, holding one up.

“You’re not very good at this.”

“Right, then. Takeout it is.”

I looked behind us, toward the hallway. “Where’s my mother?”

Noah shook his head. “One of her friends picked her up for coffee, I think?”

“Daniel?”

“Out with Sophie. I’m responsible for everyone’s welfare until she returns.”

“God help us,” I said with a grin, but I was glad. I lowered my voice. “So last night—”

“Pizza!” Joseph called out.

“Must we?” Noah yelled back. He turned to face me. “What do you want?”

“Not pizza,” I agreed. “I feel kind of gross.”

“Gross. Indeed. Can you think of any food item in particular that would make you feel less gross?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know—soup?”

“Pea soup, perhaps?”

“I hate you.”

“But you make it so easy. Chinese?”

I shook my head and glanced out the window. I didn’t really care. I just wanted to talk.

“Never mind, you’re making this quite difficult. Joseph!” Noah called out.

“What!”

“Where are Daniel and Sophie?”

“Avigdor’s!” my brother shouted.

Noah looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“Fine with me,” I said.

“What kind of food is it?” Noah asked.

“Israeli!”

“Do they have soup?”

“Sushi too!” Joseph yelled.

“Enough with the yelling!” I shouted, then sank into a kitchen chair. I put my head in my hands while Noah ordered and texted Daniel to bring the food home with him. Eventually, Joseph abandoned the video game and went to his room.

Leaving us alone. I opened my mouth to speak but Noah interrupted me before I could.

“What did you do at your place today?”

“We shared our fears. Listen, last night—”

“That sounds appropriately hellish.”

“I didn’t have to go, they split the group in half. It’s my turn tomorrow—”

“Daniel’s anxious to see it,” Noah said, interrupting me again. “He said he’s going to a family therapy thing in a few days? Should be delightful.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I mean, no. Noah—are you staying tonight?”