Read Online Equilibrium by Lorrie Thomson - Free Book Online Page B

from Daddy’s studio. Troy chewed his cereal, humming through his nose. She glared at Troy, and he waved. Had he stayed up all night figuring out ways to irritate her? En route to the bathroom, Darcy bumped into Troy’s chair with her laundry basket. Twice. Troy chewed with his mouth open.
    Aidan’s dryer load rotated on warm, the done button lit. Darcy pressed clear, opened the door, and scooped the warm wash into Aidan’s waiting basket. Jeans, T-shirts, boxers, and light green scrubs with a small questionable stain. Okay, she really was going to hurl.
    She needed to get her wash started and shower before Nick came to take her to a movie. The last time they’d gone to a movie, they sat in the back row of Cinemagic. As soon as the room went black, Nick rubbed her neck and pressed his mouth to hers. He drew an ache up from her toes that left her wiping her eyes when the credits rolled, although she hadn’t watched a single frame. The best part? Nick had held her hand all the way to the car.
    No wash, no shower, no Nick.
    Darcy blew past the still-chewing-humming Troy and knocked on Aidan’s—Daddy’s—studio. No answer. She put her ear to the door, and shower sounds washed through the crack. First Aidan had swiped her laundry time, and now he was hogging all the water!
    She stomped to the bathroom, opened the washing machine, and shoveled Aidan’s wet clothes on top of his dry duds. Let him figure it out. She lifted the basket and—
    “What’re you doing?” Mom, dressed and wearing lipstick. On a Sunday morning. In the house.
    “You going somewhere?” Darcy asked.
    Mom took Aidan’s laundry basket from her arms and walked into the kitchen. She squeezed Aidan’s jeans on the top of the pile and furrowed her brow. “They’re wet.”
    “It’s not my fault. He left them there. What am I supposed to do? Besides, the clothes underneath are dry, so the heat can rise up and—”
    Mom’s eyes bugged out. “That’s worse.”
    Aidan strolled into the kitchen, shower-fresh and barefoot, as if he lived here. As if he belonged.
    Troy had been giving Aidan the hairy eyeball since he’d moved in. Little brother would stop whatever he was doing and stare after Aidan, his face concentrating like when he was puzzling out a school assignment. Maybe Troy’s Einstein ways would spook Aidan. Nice one, odd little bro.
    Troy chewed faster, then swallowed. He set down his spoon.
    Aidan glanced sideways and eyed his laundry. “That looks strangely familiar,” he told her mother.
    Mom laughed. “And familiarly strange,” she said, some dumb as dirt back and forth they’d devised. No surprise Aidan knew Elle. He acted like one of her mother’s girlfriends. Well, maybe not girl friend. Last week, Darcy had caught him checking out her mother’s ass when she wasn’t looking. Must be desperate. Yet another reason Mom shouldn’t trust him.
    “Unfortunately, at least half your wash is still wet.” Mom looked at Darcy and lost her sense of humor. “Darcy, take Aidan’s wash and put it back in the dryer, including anything you caused to dampen.”
    She wasn’t about to do Aidan’s wash.
    “Darcy?”
    “Tell Aidan if he wants to do wash on Sunday morning, he shouldn’t leave it for hours.”
    “Darcy Ann, speak directly to—”
    Aidan stepped between her and her mother, and Troy took his bowl to the counter to get a better view.
    “Watched the clock,” Aidan said. “Dryer stopped ten minutes ago. Wash finished five minutes ago.”
    She wanted him to get all red in the face. She wanted him to stammer. She wanted him to raise his voice till a vein popped out on his forehead. She didn’t want him to tell the plain truth. Darcy sucked at her bottom lip. Mom folded her arms, angled her a what-do-you-say-to-that glare.
    “Something else bothering you?” Aidan asked.
    Darcy wanted to knock the perfectly reasonable look off his face. “I do wash on Sunday,” she said, which sounded lame, even to her.
    Aidan nodded,