The Charlotte Chronicles (Jackson Boys 1)

The recitation of all Nate’s homework has inverse reactions from me and Dad. The lines on his forehead disappear, and he turns slightly to clap Nate on the shoulder. “Charlotte has plenty of work to keep her occupied, don’t you, honey?”

“Yes,” I say glumly and go over to my desk and pick up a couple of my booklets. They are mostly full of rudimentary math concepts as well as logic quizzes and memorization drills. The radiation and chemotherapy used to kill the cancer cells in my skull have affected my brain function, so I guess I’m brain damaged. Literally. I hate this, but my doctors say that with time, I should be able to catch up with my peers. With time. Everything is going to take time. I kind of hate that saying.

”Have fun tonight, Daddy.” I give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Your mom will be by in thirty minutes,” he says with a return hug. I trudge behind Nate as we walk down the service hall that connects the two units.

“Think if we move that the new people will want to close this down?” he asks.

“No,” I gasp. “No one’s moving from this place.”

”Charlotte,” he chides. “We aren’t going to live here forever.”

“Why not?” I know I sound grumpy, but the idea that I have to do homework better suited to fifth graders instead of spending time exploring Nate’s fine body has already set my mood to sullen. Now he’s trying to tell me that we aren’t going to be neighbors forever? It’s like he wants me to be grumpy all night long.

“Because we should be somewhere that has a lot of space.”

“We?” I ask, perking up.

“Yes, we.” He smiles down at me, and suddenly I’m happy again.

Nate’s parents say hi to us as we walk down the hallway toward the bedrooms, but we don’t stop. Instead Nate opens the door to his room. After I slip inside, he enters and closes the door behind him.

Taking the booklets from my hands, he tosses them on the desk and then picks me up and tosses me right onto the bed.

“Nate!” I squeal when he launches himself and lands right beside me.

With a laugh, he buries his head into my neck, which causes my entire body to melt and tingle. “Did you really think we were going to do homework all night?”

I bat uselessly at his shoulder. “Um, yes?”

He rolls onto his back but pulls me with him so that I’m tucked next to his body, my head pillowed on his shoulder and his arm is wrapped around my back. His fingers are curved around my waist, and I feel fully surrounded by his warmth.

“Nah, we had the biochem test today. Pop quiz. And I read my history homework during study hall.” He tilts his head awkwardly down at me. “Do you need to study?”

“No,” I state emphatically.

He smiles and then rests his head back against the pillows. “Good. We’ll eat, watch a movie with Nick, and then . . .”

His voice trails off, but I know. I know exactly what that silence stands for.

Finally.

* * *

We do exactly as he says. Nick throws open the door to tell us the pizza is being delivered. Thankfully we are merely lying next to each other as I force Nate to recount any and all North Prep gossip. He says he can’t remember any and looks relieved at the interruption. The pizza, sodas, milk, and water are all set up in the media room. Outside the room, Mom appears to give me a hug and a bland admonishment to be good.

Grace Jackson comes in on a cloud of perfume and gives me a warm kiss on the forehead. Her eyes are glowing with affection as she looks at the three of us sitting on the floor, ready for the movie to start. We’re watching The Outsiders, a movie that was old even when Aunt Grace and Mom went to college. Uncle Noah gestures for Nate to step into the hallway.

“You’ll need these.” She hands me a box of tissues.

“Thanks, Mom,” Nick mocks, ripping the box away from my hands. He pulls out a tissue and dabs away pretend tears from his hazel eyes, a replica of his mother’s. I punch him at the same time that Grace ruffles his hair. He ducks both of us but tips over, causing us all to laugh.

“Love you both.”

“Love you too,” we chorus in unison. He’s still lying on his back, so it looks like he’s saying it to the ceiling.

His mom rolls her eyes and leans down to pat me on the cheek. “Follow your heart,” she says and turns to walk out the door.

“As long as it leads into Nate’s pants.” Nick waggles his eyebrows, but unfortunately for him Nate has returned from the hallway and he delivers a punch to Nick’s arm that sends him tipping backward again. This time when Nick is rolling on the floor it’s because of pain and not laughter.