“Assignment?”
“Summer school,” I say. “Just to get ahead.”
“You’re in summer school to get ahead?” Katie gives me a shocked face. Leelee smiles with amusement, further confirming that this isn’t a normal behavior.
“Just in two subjects,” I say defensively. “Any idea on how to fix this?”
“Nope,” Katie replies. “There’s a reason I’m cleaning rooms here.”
“Have you tried turning it off?” Leelee asks. “That’s what Charlie always tells me to do.”
“Actually, I have.”
“Well, he’s probably at home if you want to go ask him.”
I stare at my grandmother. “Do what?”
She jerks her head in the direction of the Wayward Sun. “Go ask him. He’s a whiz and will figure it out way faster than any of us.”
I glance at Katie and she shrugs. “She’s right. That’s who I’d ask.”
“So, just go over there?”
“Sure. Sierra has them doing all kinds of stuff for the house and shop. He’s probably around. I’m sure she’ll be fine with you borrowing his brain for a minute.”
It’s either that or turn my first assignment in late, which I’m not a fan of. I’ve had straight A’s all through school. I have no plan on messing that up now.
I inhale and grab my laptop, ignoring the amused expressions on Leelee’s and Katie’s faces. They p
robably have no problem asking for help. From a boy. In a house filled with boys. But I’m breaking, like, three rules doing it, and admitting that I can’t work out the issue myself.
It’s late morning, which means the early rush is over at the coffee shop. A few customers linger at the tables scattered across the front yard and the strains of classic rock greet me before I open the door. Sierra’s at the small table that holds the cream and sugar, singing the lyrics like a rock star. The bell chiming announces my arrival and she looks up, surprised, but then smiles.
“Starlee! Missed you this morning.”
“Leelee brought me my mocha—I was busy with my school work.”
“Ah right, I remember her saying that.” She wiped a mess off the table with a rag. “We were slammed with a group of tourists from Germany. I had to pull all the boys in to help. What’cha need? Refill?”
Before I have a chance to answer, a figure appears in the door. Dexter stares out at me while wearing a white apron over his Wayward Sun T-shirt. There’s a smear of flour on his sharp cheekbone and in this very instant, he’s completely disarming.
“No, actually,” I say, tearing my eyes away from Dexter and holding up my laptop, “I’m having issues turning in my assignment. Leelee said Charlie would be a good one to ask.”
“Sure, anything to get him to put that brain to use and not just playing those freaking games.” She shakes her head. “Go back out and head through the other door—that’s the residence entrance.”
“Thanks so much. I really don’t want to screw up this first assignment.”
Sierra laughs. “Is this what it’s like having a girl? Studious? Conscientious? Are you sure you don’t want to move in here? I’m happy to make a trade with your grandmother.”
Dexter scowls and vanishes back in the kitchen.
“Don’t mind him. He’s not happy if he’s not cranky about something.”
I want to ask her if he’s cranky about me in particular, because I haven’t had one encounter with him that didn’t result in him either rolling his eyes or snarling, but a customer walks in with two kids in tow.
“Just knock next door?” I ask.
“Barge in. God knows if they’ll notice someone knocking.”