What a mess the party had been. Quinn had kept texting me and calling me, but I’d wanted her to sleep it off before we talked. Nothing good would’ve come from our conversation while she was under the influence.
“Mom, when you were a teenager, did you ever get drunk?”
Her fingers froze over the keyboard. “Was Marcus drinking last night?”
“No.” Although he might have been after he left the party, but I didn’t want to plant any seeds for her to get freaked out over. Besides, Marcus was asleep in his room. I’d checked when I passed his room earlier. “Quinn was tipsy. Well, more than tipsy.” I blew out a heavy breath as our quiet interlude flashed before me.
Stop thinking about that. You’re sitting next to your mom.
“Is that why you kids came home early? I asked Emma, but she didn’t elaborate. She just said a fight broke out, and Marcus wasn’t part of it. Then she got a phone call, as I was putting Harlan to bed.”
I popped my head back against the couch. “Quinn started the fight.”
She wiped her brow with her fingers, moving wisps of her dirty-blond hair from her forehead. “Is that so? Jeff and Hazel must be beside themselves.”
“Oh yeah. Mr. Thompson was furious. I’m not allowed to see Quinn until further notice.” Knowing her dad, Quinn was probably grounded for the rest of her high school days.
“So, Emma didn’t mention that Celia was rushed to the hospital?”
My mom gasped. “Oh God, no! Is Celia okay?”
I shrugged. “I think so.” I hadn’t heard from Liam, but no news was good news… usually. “I need to call Liam.”
“Was Celia drinking too?” Mom asked.
I bobbed my head.
Her tone dropped. “And you and Ethan?”
“No, ma’am.”
She sighed before taking a swig of coffee as though caffeine was her alcohol. “Look, son. It doesn’t matter if I drank in high school. What matters is knowing the effects of what alcohol and drugs can do to a person. It’s important to never get behind the wheel impaired and use alcohol or drugs as a crutch to drown your problems.”
I kicked up my legs and rested my bare feet on the coffee table, which was littered with pamphlets and folders.
Leaning forward, I picked up a pamphlet. “Are you sending us to Greenridge Academy?”Please say no, at least not me.“Is this the school that the triplets went to?”
She frowned as she brought her cup up to her lips. “I’m thinking about it. You boys need structure. I would like to say I can handle the eight of you, and I actually think I did a pretty good job when your dad was on deployment. But I didn’t have five teenagers to discipline.”
I flipped through the pamphlet, perusing the pictures of happy students holding books, an aerial view of the school, the football field, and even the gymnasium. I swallowed thickly as my stomach sank. “You’re sending me too?” I held my breath.
She studied me while she drank her coffee.
I stopped on the last page of the pamphlet. “Is this…”
“Yep,” she said. “That’s Kross.”
My cousin Kross Maxwell was in a boxing ring, sparring with an older man.
“I think Marcus and Jasper will like the school,” Mom said. “Marcus likes boxing, and Jasper loves any sport. You know, they have a great basketball program. Lots of their students go on to great colleges and universities, and I’ve been told scouts love what they see from the students. Many of them, according to the brochures, have been drafted into the NBA and NFL and other major sports organizations, even the Olympics.”
It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me. I fixated on a younger version of Kross, and even as a teenager, he was built much like Marcus. I also didn’t doubt that what the brochure touted was true. I just didn’t want to leave home or start over.
My mom sat back in her chair. “I’m going up to visit the school before I make a decision. I know you’ll be at camp, but the rest of the family is going with me. Kross is even coming to show us around. He knows several of the staff. He’s been in touch with the boxing coach the last few years as well.”
“So no firm decision?” I didn’t want to argue with her. She’d been through enough with everything that had happened in our family since Dad passed away. Maybe she would decide in the end not to ship off her boys. “What about Emma? Is she included?”
Mom set her cup down on the table. Then she laid her hand on my leg. “I don’t like what I might have to do, Maiken. I want your support if I decide to flip the switch.”
