Not My Hero

“Which one?” Brie asks as glances over the titles.

“Autobiography of a Yogi, by Paramahansa Yogananda.” I suck at pronouncing the author’s name and feeling awkward, I explain, “Apparently, it was the only ebook found on Steve Jobs’ IPad.”

We search through the books until Brie shakes her head. “Give me a second.” I watch her walk over to the cashier, and after a couple of minutes, she comes back grinning. “They checked on the system, and they have one in stock. They’ll find it for us. Come.” She grabs my hand and pulls me back toward the cashier.

When they bring us the book, Brie looks happier than me. I give her a sideways hug. “Thanks, that saved a lot of time.”

I pay for the two books with the credit card Mom gave me after we moved in so I could do all the shopping for us.

Leaving the store, I ask, “Where to now?”

Brie glances up and down the street. “The rest of the stores are all basic.”

“Want to get something to drink?” I ask, pointing at the diner at the end of the street.

Brie shakes her head. “There will be kids from school.”

“So?” I raise an eyebrow at her. “Don’t let that stop you.”

When I take a step in the direction of the diner, Brie grabs hold of my hand. “I really don’t want to go there. We can get something from a drive-thru and go back to the park.”

Not wanting to push her, I relent. “Okay.”

We each get a milkshake before I drive back to the public park. Once we’re seated on the bench, I take a sip, then gesture to the bag with our books. “You’re going to use the journal, right?”

Brie nods, and setting her milkshake down on the side of the bench, she pulls my book out of the bag and begins to page through it.

She stops to read something, and it has me saying, “Read it out loud.”

She clears her throat and shoots me a shy grin before she reads, “You may wander through the universe incognito. Make vessels of the gods. Be ever youthful. You may walk in water and live in fire. But control of the mind is better and more difficult.”

She actually looks impressed with what she just read, and glancing up at me, she says, “I think I need to start reading the same books as you.”

“Why?” I ask with a chuckle.

A look I haven’t seen before settles on Brie’s face, and it makes my heartbeat speed up. “Because you’re the best person I know, Colton. I want to be more like you.”

Lifting my hand, I brush her bangs away from where it’s hanging in her eye. “You’re pretty special just as you are, Brie.”

Her lips curve up as a soft pink blush blossoms on her cheeks.Chapter 18BRIEI follow Colton to the laundry room on Saturday morning. We’ve decided to get all the chores done.

I have to admit, this is the first time I’m excited about doing any kind of housework. If I can do my part, then I’ll feel better about living here.

“Let’s separate the whites from the colors,” Colton says.

I grab my basket, and I dig all my school shirts out of it. Then my eyes fall on the white bra, and my eyebrows shoot up.

Dang.

I glance at Colton while heat spreads up my neck. I obviously didn’t think this through.

Colton notices I’ve stopped and glances at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah…” The blush on my face deepens, and I quickly lower my eyes only to stare at the bra again, mumbling, “This is so awkward.”

“What?” He begins to move closer, and I quickly cover the bra.

“Uh…” I let out a breath, then push through and ask, “How are we going to do the underwear?”

Colton instantly bursts out laughing and shaking his head, he goes back to sorting the clothes while saying, “Brie, I’ve seen women’s underwear before.”

Yeah, but they weren’t mine.

I stand and stare at Colton until he says, “Okay, separate yours. I’ll do my mother’s and mine later.”

I shake my head. “It will be a waste of water and soap to wash mine separately.” Shrugging, I add, “Don’t mind me. I’m just being silly.”

I add my whites to Colton’s pile and sucking it up, I pull the bra out of the laundry basket and quickly tuck it under a shirt.

“You’re cute,” Colton murmurs, a huge grin on his face.

When the bundle of whites is in the washing machine, we head downstairs. Colton vacuums and dusts the living room while I take care of the kitchen.

Before we know it, we’re all done inside.

“Now for outside,” Colton says.

I frown at him. “Do you always do everything on Saturdays?”

He shakes his head. “No, but now that you’re here, I’d rather get everything done. That way, we don’t have to worry about it during the week.”