Read Online The Promise of Amazing by Robin Constantine - Free Book Online Page B

Jersey, and became Kate Easton from Darien, Connecticut. A few years later, I unloaded that game ball through Spiro. Luke thought I’d been nuts to get rid of it, but I couldn’t stand having it in my room.
    The Yankees game was the first and last time Laird ever went out of his way to be nice to me. Most of the time it felt like he tolerated me simply because I was “Kate’s son from her first marriage.” Anytime he said it, it was like a disclaimer to my presence. The only bright points in the Easton union weremy half sibs, Ryder and Grier, who both didn’t give two shits I’d been kicked out of school and treated me like I was Santa with an armload of toys any time they saw me.
    Ryder was five, and his only fault was that he was a mini-Laird, complete with side part and upturned polo collar. I loved how he’d come out with this random stuff like “I don’t cry” and “Unown is my favorite kind of Pokémon.” He saved me from a college chat with Mom when I first arrived by shoving his Nintendo DS in my face and begging me to help him battle Zoroark.
    Grier was three, and all Mom. Brown eyes and light hair, with a ginormous white ribbon perched on the front of her head. She had trouble pronouncing her Rs, which was pretty adorable. We had an ongoing dialogue where she’d try to get me to pronounce her name correctly, but I would pronounce it just the way she said it. . . .
    “No, Gwayson, it’s Gweewah.”
    “That’s what I’m saying. Gweewah.”
    “No, no, no . . . Gweewah,” she’d say, louder, stomping her foot for emphasis.
    “Yes, Gweewah, that’s right, isn’t it?”
    She’d put her hands over her eyes and collapse into a fit of giggles until her face was bright red.
    If only it were that easy to talk to Wren.
    Insane as it sounded, Wren had become a safe haven. A place my mind gravitated to whenever I didn’t feel like dealingwith what was in front of me. I replayed that day in the park in my head, how I’d do things differently so she’d give me her number. During calculus. While driving. When I had trouble falling asleep. And now, as I dodged any serious chats during Thanksgiving at Mom’s.
    “DinnaweddyGwayson,” Grier said, in one long breath. She grabbed the tips of my fingers with her tiny hands and yanked. I played along, pretending I needed help off the sofa, then grabbed her, spun her around, and set her down. My reward was another round of giggles and a smile from my mother.
    “Grayson, sorry I’ve been stuck in the kitchen all day,” my mother said, lacing her arm through mine and leading me toward the dining room.
    “It’s cool, Mom. Smells good.”
    “We’re so happy you’re here. Ryder and Grier especially.”
    “Yep, it’s a blast hanging with them.” They don’t ask me questions about my future .
    “Laird’s off tomorrow. Ryder wants to skate at Rockefeller Center like we did last year. Maybe you could stay the night? Join us?” she asked.
    “I sort of have plans, but thanks,” I lied.
    “Well, if your plans change, please consider meeting us. It would be fun,” she said. When we reached the dining room, she went back to playing hostess.
    A giant cornucopia with dinner rolls spilling out of it sat inthe center of the Thanksgiving table. Each plate had a folded napkin and a clumsily colored turkey-shaped place card that must have been fashioned by either Ryder or Grier. I sat at the end of the table by my mother. On the other side of me was Laird’s grandmother, who looked old enough to have been at the first Thanksgiving.
    “Dinner is buffet-style, everyone. Food’s in the kitchen. Don’t be shy,” my mother said. I slid the napkin and place card off my plate and followed everyone to the kitchen. I stuck to the basics (turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes) and kept thinking that, after eating, I’d be that much closer to leaving.
    I tried not to scarf down everything too quickly, but it was hard. The food was mouthwatering. Not that I didn’t