“Nope. We were watching Bonnie and Clyde. Only they couldn’t both be Clyde and neither wanted to be Bonnie, so they settled on Butch and Sundance.” We turned the corner and landed in yet another stretch of hallway. “I either have to stop letting my pets hang out in the theater room or do a better job at naming them.”

“Or better yet, you could bring in the psychic before you name them.”

“Good idea.”

We turned the corner again and landed in a kitchen that glistened with shiny granite counter tops and stainless steel you could see your reflection in. There was even a small sitting area with a wide screen television and plush green couches. The dogs stretched out on the rugs in front of the couches, and Some Pig curled up next to them.

The house was truly magnificent. Every fixture sparkled. Every rug looked lush enough to sleep on. Every piece of furniture looked expensive and imported. But aside from the small herd of cool pets, the whole place lacked the magical element that made a house feel like a home. As luxurious as it was, it felt unfriendly and cold. Just like Finley’s brother, Jude.

“I don’t eat critters of any kind.” Finley reached for a cupboard handle. The door swung open and revealed a huge refrigerator stocked with food and beer. “Are grilled cheese sandwiches all right? Sorry, but that’s all I really know how to make.”

“Grilled cheese sounds divine.” I had no idea how much Mrs. Vickers had told Finley about me or how much my school counselor really even knew about my life. But the way Finley looked at me from beneath the curtain of long white bangs, it seemed she knew that I’d grown up on cereal, peanut butter sandwiches, and free school lunches. And I sensed that none of it mattered to her. I was just going on first impressions, and I could have been totally wrong, but it seemed that this was a girl who had grown up with everything but who would never look down at someone who had less. There was something truly genuine and trustworthy about her.

Finley searched around for a frying pan in one of the bazillion cupboards lining the walls.

I helped her butter bread and she dropped the sandwiches onto a heated pan. My intuition told me that we could become close friends. And truthfully, I’d moved around so much, I’d never really had a true friend. The only hurdle so far was the cold greeting from her brother. In those few seconds, he had made me feel unwanted and uneasy. Down the long stretch of hallway from the gym, I’d engaged in a mind debate on whether or not to mention it. I figured there was still time to back out of this if necessary.

“Your brother was definitely not pleased to meet me.” Up until this point I’d been feeling pretty positive about the whole adventure, but her brother had put a spoiler on the whole thing.

“Don’t mind Jude. He thrives on being an asshole. He’s cranky because he’s been under house arrest for four months. Once he gets the ankle monitor off, he’ll be out of here. He rarely stays around.”

She had talked freely about her life since I’d arrived but she obviously had no intention of telling me why Jude was under house arrest. He definitely looked like the kind of guy who lived for trouble.

Chapter 5

“Ta da,” Finely sang out as she flipped the sandwiches onto plates. “Half-burned but plenty of gooey cheese.”

“Gooey cheese is definitely a bonus.” I hopped up onto one of the stools that lined the granite counter. I picked up the hot crisp sandwich. “I just realized I’m starved.”

Finley poured us each a glass of lemonade, pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and sat next to me.

“How long have you been a vegetarian?” I asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

“Since I was five. Jude, Dad, and I were in the back of the limo on the freeway and we drove past a giant stock trailer filled with pigs. I smiled and pointed at the pretty pigs and asked if they were going to a farm. Dad assured me they were, but Jude chimed in to let me know that he thought they were going to the ham factory. I haven’t eaten meat since.”

“I guess it’s easy to figure out why your brother calls you Doolittle.”

“Jude has tons of nicknames for me. About the only name he doesn’t call me is Finley.” Her bracelets jangled as she lifted her sandwich and took a bite. She sipped her lemonade. “I’ve been blathering on like a grocery store tabloid about my life. Tell me more about yourself. What do you like to do? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I’m kind of a book nerd. I liked to read, and I was an honor student up until last week when your aunt found my mom’s joint perched on the top of my backpack.”

Her eyes widened. “No way. Aunt Julie must have had a stroke.”

“She was actually pretty cool about it. My mom cried about it all day. She had me when she was sixteen, and we’ve always been more like friends than like mother and daughter. We’re really close. She can take one look at me as I walk in the door and know exactly what kind of day I had. My dad and I are close too. He has always had the dream of becoming a rock star. I think that’s what has always stood in the way of him holding a real job. I think deep down he figured if he ever got trapped in a mundane nine to five job like other guys his age then his dream would be shattered forever. The big break he needed just never happened.” I laughed. “You should have seen him when I told him about coming here for the summer. He was pacing our apartment with a starry-eyed look that only a true man-crush could produce.”

“We’ll have to get them together this summer.”

“That would be great. My dad would have to be tranquilized first, but he would love that.”

Finley’s phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen and went back to her sandwich. “Let’s remember to exchange numbers to put in our cell phones.”

I stared down at the half-eaten sandwich on my plate. Occasionally, our family had splurged on a prepaid phone but it was definitely a luxury.

Finley seemed to sense what I was thinking. “I’m a knucklehead. I don’t know why I assume everyone has a phone. Honestly, I hate having one, but my dad insists that I carry it. He calls a lot to check in on me.”

“That’s sweet. He sounds like a good dad.”

“He is. It’s just he’s so busy, he’s rarely home. I’ve been trying to convince him to retire from the whole rock scene, but he still loves it. But I worry about him when he’s on tour. He always gets rundown and then he gets sick.”

“Your dad is living the life my dad always dreamed of.”

Her phone vibrated again. She glanced at it and then ignored it.

“I’ll bet you have a million different friends texting you,” I said. “That would get annoying fast.”

“Nah, only a handful. I don’t give my number out much. It’s kind of hard to stay private when you’re the daughter of a rock legend. My dad has forbidden us to use Facebook too. We get all kinds of weirdoes posting on there.”

“Wow, I hadn’t thought of that.”

One of Black Thunder’s songs jingled through the ring tone on her phone. She sighed audibly and pressed it to her ear. “What do you want?” she asked. “In the kitchen. Make your own lunch. You’re the reason the cook quit.” She placed the phone down again.

Seconds later, footsteps plodded down the hallway. Jude stepped into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans. His scrutinizing gaze flashed my way. Just like his sister, he was definitely a person who could steal the attention of a crowded room. And he seemed well-aware of it. I made a point to focus on my sandwich. As comfortable as I’d felt eating lunch with Finley, her brother had stripped that confidence instantly.

The dogs lifted their big heads as he walked over and flopped onto the couch. He plunked his feet, unwieldy cuff and all, hard onto a highly polished coffee table. “Hey, Freak Show,” Jude called without looking back, “bring me that carton of milk, would you?” He switched on the television.