Read Online Jaden Baker by Courtney Kirchoff - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Courtney Kirchoff
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able to feel comfortable, genuinely comfortable rather than faking it, the nameless issue would hide itself once again, laying dormant until it was required (if ever).
When Jaden entered the kitchen, Derek and Jenny were talking happily about some episode on television they’d seen. Derek greeted him with a hearty good morning, and Jaden gave one back. Because he liked them, too.
“Can I help you?” he asked Jenny.
“Sure. You can set the table. Thanks, Jaden,” she replied, opening the drawer containing cutlery and place mats.
They sat at the small dining room table, and the Kauffmans each reached out one hand for Jaden to hold when they said grace. Jaden took their hands and bowed his head but kept his eyes open and watched them recite a prayer.
“Amen,” he said with them, then he dug in to his French toast. Maybe the reason he thought the Kauffmans were corny or cliché was because that’s what people did. Maybe it was average, normal, for people to eat breakfast around a table after saying grace. Maybe it was ordinary to read the news or books in the morning. They were neither paranoid, frightful, or rude. Their attitudes matched the order of the neighborhood in which they lived.
“We were thinking,” Jenny said over a mouthful of toast, “we could go to the bookstore today and get some new books for you. We know you like to read, but we’re not sure what.”
Jaden took a huge bite of toast and nodded. “That sounds great,” he said. He put another piece of toast on his plate and reached for the syrup.
It slid a few inches into his open hand.
Jaden looked around. Derek frowned at him thoughtfully, then shook his head and continued with his toast and e-reader.
He poured the syrup then set it down, holding his breath as he pushed it away from him.
“Juice?” Jenny asked, holding up a pitcher of orange juice.
Jaden nodded.
I’m going to pick up my glass with my hands, he thought. Then I’m going to put it down. With my hands.
And so he did. She poured juice, he picked up the glass, drank some, and set the glass on the table. Nothing remarkable happened. He sighed.
“What are you reading?” he asked Derek.
“Just the news.”
“Oh,” Jaden said.
Now I’m going to have another piece of toast. I’m going to pick up the fork in my hand, stab a piece, put it on my plate.
He did so.
Then I’m going to pick up the syrup, pour it, and set the syrup bottle onto the table. Derek will assume he imagined it and will think nothing about what he saw before.
“Are you okay?” Jenny asked as he poured the syrup.
“Yes,” he said, and replaced the syrup onto the table. He paused, grabbed his fork and continued with his breakfast.
“You look like you’re trying really hard,” Derek said, smirking. “It’s just breakfast.”
He dripped syrup down onto his pants. He dropped his fork and went to grab a napkin, when the whole napkin tray slid across the table to him.
Trying to act casual, as if this happened every day in dining rooms across America, Jaden picked out a napkin and dabbed at his jeans. His face was hot, and without looking up, he was sure Derek and Jenny stared, mouths gaping.
A thousand curse words, all in different combinations, strung themselves together in his head, vying to escape through his tightly sealed lips. Whatever it was was getting stronger, happening more frequently and out of his control. Actually it only happened when he wasn’t thinking about not doing it.
Jaden picked up his fork, though no longer hungry, and continued to eat, chewing the toast mechanically and doing his best to be easy-going. He tried thinking of something he could talk about in the news, but didn’t know what.
In his peripheral vision, Jaden saw Jenny and Derek staring widely at each other, their eyes flicking back and forth to Jaden, to each other, and back again. Derek had his fork midway to his mouth and Jenny clenched her glass of juice so hard her fingers were white.
The
When Jaden entered the kitchen, Derek and Jenny were talking happily about some episode on television they’d seen. Derek greeted him with a hearty good morning, and Jaden gave one back. Because he liked them, too.
“Can I help you?” he asked Jenny.
“Sure. You can set the table. Thanks, Jaden,” she replied, opening the drawer containing cutlery and place mats.
They sat at the small dining room table, and the Kauffmans each reached out one hand for Jaden to hold when they said grace. Jaden took their hands and bowed his head but kept his eyes open and watched them recite a prayer.
“Amen,” he said with them, then he dug in to his French toast. Maybe the reason he thought the Kauffmans were corny or cliché was because that’s what people did. Maybe it was average, normal, for people to eat breakfast around a table after saying grace. Maybe it was ordinary to read the news or books in the morning. They were neither paranoid, frightful, or rude. Their attitudes matched the order of the neighborhood in which they lived.
“We were thinking,” Jenny said over a mouthful of toast, “we could go to the bookstore today and get some new books for you. We know you like to read, but we’re not sure what.”
Jaden took a huge bite of toast and nodded. “That sounds great,” he said. He put another piece of toast on his plate and reached for the syrup.
It slid a few inches into his open hand.
Jaden looked around. Derek frowned at him thoughtfully, then shook his head and continued with his toast and e-reader.
He poured the syrup then set it down, holding his breath as he pushed it away from him.
“Juice?” Jenny asked, holding up a pitcher of orange juice.
Jaden nodded.
I’m going to pick up my glass with my hands, he thought. Then I’m going to put it down. With my hands.
And so he did. She poured juice, he picked up the glass, drank some, and set the glass on the table. Nothing remarkable happened. He sighed.
“What are you reading?” he asked Derek.
“Just the news.”
“Oh,” Jaden said.
Now I’m going to have another piece of toast. I’m going to pick up the fork in my hand, stab a piece, put it on my plate.
He did so.
Then I’m going to pick up the syrup, pour it, and set the syrup bottle onto the table. Derek will assume he imagined it and will think nothing about what he saw before.
“Are you okay?” Jenny asked as he poured the syrup.
“Yes,” he said, and replaced the syrup onto the table. He paused, grabbed his fork and continued with his breakfast.
“You look like you’re trying really hard,” Derek said, smirking. “It’s just breakfast.”
He dripped syrup down onto his pants. He dropped his fork and went to grab a napkin, when the whole napkin tray slid across the table to him.
Trying to act casual, as if this happened every day in dining rooms across America, Jaden picked out a napkin and dabbed at his jeans. His face was hot, and without looking up, he was sure Derek and Jenny stared, mouths gaping.
A thousand curse words, all in different combinations, strung themselves together in his head, vying to escape through his tightly sealed lips. Whatever it was was getting stronger, happening more frequently and out of his control. Actually it only happened when he wasn’t thinking about not doing it.
Jaden picked up his fork, though no longer hungry, and continued to eat, chewing the toast mechanically and doing his best to be easy-going. He tried thinking of something he could talk about in the news, but didn’t know what.
In his peripheral vision, Jaden saw Jenny and Derek staring widely at each other, their eyes flicking back and forth to Jaden, to each other, and back again. Derek had his fork midway to his mouth and Jenny clenched her glass of juice so hard her fingers were white.
The
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