As soon as they arrived at the house, Brooklyn went right up to her room and dumped out her book bag on the floor. Her plan was to get her homework done, because the Thompsons ate dinner every night during the week at six o’clock sharp. After dinner, she wanted to swim some laps and then play on the computer. It was just before three when Brooklyn sprawled out on the floor and started doing her homework.
An hour and fifteen minutes later, she had completed all her assignments. It had been a lot easier than she had anticipated, so she decided to change her plan and swim before dinner instead. In the basement, both Ben and Gabe had sunken their video-addicted selves into the couch for another round of Mario Kart, their addiction of the week. “You’re swimming again?” asked Ben, without moving his eyes from the television.
“Yes, I prefer to exercise more than just my fingers.”
“You’re an addict and you need help,” said Ben.
“I guess,” answered Brooklyn as she walked to the pool. She wondered whether Ben and Gabe really thought she needed mental-health help.
She swam laps for an hour before soaking in the hot tub for fifteen minutes. She could hear the boys shouting at each other in the game room, still involved with the game and racing each other all around the television screen. After the hot tub had soothed her muscles, Brooklyn went upstairs and took a hot shower. She changed into a hooded sweatshirt and pants before throwing her soaking wet hair in a bun on the top of her head and heading downstairs to dinner.
Mary was just putting the final touches on the Mexican-food buffet she had prepared, and was pulling the tortillas out of the microwave. They were enclosed between two plates, the top one upside down, and then layered individually between sheets of paper towel. Mary had sprinkled a little water on each tortilla and then placed a piece of paper towel on top. The tortillas were soft and steaming hot.
“I never knew you could do that!” exclaimed Brooklyn.
“Just like in a restaurant,” said Mary, smiling. “I don’t cook well, but I do know a few tricks.” She winked at Brooklyn.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No, thank you. I’m all set.”
Greg walked in the kitchen and kissed Mary hello. “Smells great, Honey.”
The boys walked into the kitchen and grabbed their plates right on cue. Ben’s tortilla was dominated by chicken and cheese while Gabe’s had healthy portions of tomato and lettuce. When everyone had a full plate, the family prayed quickly and dug in. Ben was practically inhaling his food while Gabe was slow and methodical and savoring every bite. Nobody broke the silence of the dinner table for the first couple of minutes. Finally, Greg spoke.
“Brooklyn how was school today?”
“It was good. Everyone was pretty nice.”
“And how about your classes? Were they too easy, or too difficult?” he asked.
Brooklyn thought about it for a second. “French is going to be a challenge. I think everything else should be okay.”
“She’s really good at math,” said Ben.
“Yeah, I’m a math nerd.”
“And a social nerd,” said Ben, nodding. “She talked to Lizzie right in front of the entire lunch room and all of my friends.”
“Oh, come on, she’s not a nerd,” Mary said.
“No, but Ben is,” chimed Gabe with a forkful of rice.
“Who is Lizzy and why is it a problem that Brooklyn talked to her in front of your friends?” asked Greg.
“Greg, it’s Lizzy MacArthur. She’s been in Ben’s class for years.” “The best part of the day was when Brooklyn hit Sara in the head in gym while we were playing Dodge ball.”
“You saw that?” asked Brooklyn, surprised.
“Yep,” said Ben with a grin on his face.
“How come you didn’t say anything?”
“Because it’s fun to watch Sara get mad. And now you owe me.”
“And Blair, too,” responded Brooklyn. “Sara yelled at her in the locker room because she assumed that Blair was the one who hit her. Besides, I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“I would have,” Gabe said. “It would have been funny to see the witch screech.”
“Gabriel!” snapped Mary, trying hard not to laugh. “Don’t say that again.” “She’s not a witch.” Ben said, stirring his rice around this plate. “She’s just . . .” there was a long pause. “She just really thinks highly of herself.”
“Do those high thoughts include you, Ben?” asked Greg.
“Mostly…sometimes…usually not.”
“Well, I appreciate you not saying anything,” said Brooklyn. “She would have eaten me alive on my first day! It really was an accident.”
Brooklyn finished giving the Thompsons details on the rest of her day, including how embarrassed she was while asking for a cold beer in French class. After dinner, Brooklyn started to clean the kitchen. It was a tradition in the Cole house that everyone pitched in for kitchen clean-up after meals. However, Mary told her not to worry about it. Brooklyn took a seat on one of the counter barstools, filling Mary in on the details she didn’t want to discuss at the dinner table. From her initial attraction to Adam, to the nice teachers and the mean girls, Brooklyn gave her the whole scoop on her exciting first day.
Mary was thrilled to have another girl in the house to talk to. Boys were so different. Gabe was a little more open than Ben, and oftentimes filled Mary in on things that Ben would have never discussed with either of his parents, such as all of the cliques and the social divisions that were occurring at the school. But Ben didn’t like talking about himself, let alone other people, so most of the time Mary felt that he was not talking enough. On one hand, it was good because he didn’t talk badly about other people with the obvious exception of Lizzy, but on the other hand it was also bad because he was very secretive about all of the issues that were taking place at the school. He was at the awkward stage where kids were exploring and experimenting and Mary had hoped that he would be willing to communicate more openly with her.
Ben came in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. “Jordan said that Blair said you need help to set up a Facebook.”
“Yeah. I told Blair I would set one up tonight.”
“Let’s go, unless you’re having fun talking to my mom.”
“Actually, I am,” she said, smiling at Mary. “Ben, you’re going to be surprised one day to discover that I may actually be a pretty cool mom . . . just a little bit,” answered Mary, smirking back at Ben. Ben stood there with a blank stare on his face.
“Yeah, right,” he finally said.
“Hey, Brooklyn,” called Greg from the family room. “Can you come in here for a second?” When she approached, Greg asked “Is it necessary for you to have a Facebook profile? I know that many of the kids use it as their preferred way to communicate but I am worried about how easy it is for people to find out information about someone else. Do you understand why I am concerned?”
Brooklyn thought seriously about his statement before responding, “Yes, I understand why you are concerned, but I have to be able to fit in with the other kids if I have any hope of having friends. I will be able to control how much or how little I want to say. It will be fine.”
Despite still feeling concerned, Greg called out to Ben. “Ben, the Internet is a wealth of information, meaning that anyone has access to whatever you put out there. Keep it as brief as possible, and absolutely no pictures.” Ben’s face dropped. “Dad, what’s even the point?” he asked, appalled.
“It’s okay, Ben,” replied Brooklyn. “I know the rules, Mr. Thompson. I promise that I won’t say anything that can make someone suspicious of the new me.”
“It’s Greg, and I want to see it when you’re done,” said Greg, pointing at Ben.
“Do you always have to be such a cop? Can’t you just be a regular guy for once?”
“I am being a regular guy, Ben—I’m looking out for my family.�
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CHAPTER 13
Her Hidden Past Page 16
