Epic Sins (Epic Fail #1)(22)

Peggy pulls me into a tight hug and says sternly in my ear, “You’ll take your son, and I am going to help. You need to trust me.”

How can this woman have so much control over me? She’s my housekeeper. Someone I barely spend time with. Yet she’s become ingrained in my family. My parents keep tabs on me through her. She’s a fixture here, and now she’s offering to help raise a child I just learned about today.

“Peggy, I don’t—” I can’t seem to say the words that are stuck in my throat, choking the life out of me.

“Nicole, what do we need to do to make this happen?” Peggy interrupts and Nicole lets out a relieved breath.

She fumbles with her cell phone and says, “Let me call the hospital now and make all of the arrangements.”

“Hospital?” I ask hesitantly.

Nicole responds with sadness in her eyes, “Mr. Armstrong, your son is a very sick little boy.”

Peggy grabs my hand and squeezes tight. I look at her with dread.

“We got this,” she says confidently.





Sam

Past

Villanova, Pennsylvania

Age 10



“SAMANTHA, ARE YOU READY?” Mom’s voice echoes through the house as I pull together what I need from my desk.

“Coming, Mom!” I call as I run down the stairs.

“Dad’s waiting outside. He’s already loaded the car.” She kisses me on my cheek and we rush out the door together.

He’s outside, closing the back of our SUV. “We’re all set!” he says cheerfully and rushes to get into the driver’s seat. I slide into the back and look over my shoulder.

My science project is perfectly positioned in the back—our universe literally hanging by a thread.

“Dad, do you think we have the planets balanced okay? Jupiter looks like it’s a little droopy,” I say, reaching back trying to touch the Styrofoam planet and position it properly.

“Don’t touch it, Sam. I had to creatively position it so it would fit. We’ll assemble it as soon as we get there,” Dad says confidently.

Now I’m worried. What if all of our hard work gets crushed in the back of our SUV? This is the science fair. THE science fair.

“Dad, why can’t I just—” I stretch as far as I can, but Jupiter is still out of my reach.

“Breathe, Sam. Breathe.” His voice is soothing, and I relax my arm until it drops into my lap.

“It just needs to be perfect, Dad. This is like ninety percent of my grade this marking period.”

“Stop exaggerating. It’s not ninety percent. It’s not even twenty percent of your grade. Your teacher said it was extra credit, and you already have an A so calm down.” He smiles and says, “You know, you remind me of myself when I was your age. In fact, I seem to remember doing something very similar. I was obsessed with math and science and won first place in my science fair that year with a very similar-looking solar system.”

“No pressure or anything, Dad!” First place? Ugh!

We pull up to the school, and I see all of the familiar faces from my science class. Cassie’s here with her grandparents. She didn’t do a project; she’s just here to support me.

“Oooh! Look at the planets.” She stares into the back of our SUV. My mother disappeared as soon as we got here and quickly emerges from the building with a rolling cart.

“It should fit nicely on this,” she exclaims, very proud of herself with the assist.

“That’s perfect, honey,” my dad says, and they smile at each other. I swear, I never see them upset, sad or arguing.

With my help, we slide the solar system onto the cart and carefully roll it into our gymnasium that’s been converted to a science fair.

I look around and don’t see any other solar systems. Phew!

“Let’s get this to your table.” Dad maneuvers through the crowds of people and expertly transfers the solar system onto my table.

I circle the display, making sure every pin is in place, every planet is in proper alignment. After confirming the labels are in the correct places, I take a deep breath. “It looks good, Dad.”

“It sure does. You’ve got yourself a winner here,” he says proudly and pulls me into his chest for one of his famous hugs.

I scan the other displays and try to find my steepest competition. Eddie Boyle is testing his volcano, and it doesn’t seem to be working. Trisha O’Toole has a greenhouse-like contraption with a lopsided tomato plant as its focal point. Piper Greenstein is watering a sunflower, and there may or may not be a bumble bee buzzing over her head. Nice touch, Piper.

There are at least fifteen other students fussing with their displays and worry begins to set in.

“You’ve got this,” my dad whispers in my ear. “Don’t let them see you sweat.”

“I don’t know, Dad. Piper has a live bumble bee.” We both look over toward her table when Mr. Fahey swats at the bee, knocking it to the floor, and then stomps on it.

“Not anymore.” My dad laughs.

“Ew,” I say as Mr. Fahey grinds his foot into the floor even harder. I think it’s officially mushed.

Good, Piper no longer has a chance now that her bee is dead.

“Boys and Girls. Moms and Dads.” Mr. Fahey’s voice is barely audible over the speaker system.