He steals up to his mum and says, “Good afternoon, beautiful.” He follows up his deviously-timed

congeniality with a kiss on her cheek.

Lila’s cool stare has melted. Before she can speak, Jace picks up the last of the clothes and throws

them in the machine. “Darn,” he says, “I meant to hang these out this morning.”

Lila says, “No, that was Cooper’s job.”

Jace laughs this off. “Yeah, except he bet a week’s worth of chores that he’d score higher than I did

last year on the end-of-year exams.” This is a lie—not the beating him part—that’s true—but the betting

part. We never made such an agreement. I want to catch his eye and ask what he’s doing, but he refuses

to look my way.

“You can’t bet your chores away, Jace,” Lila says, and her tone is soft now. Maybe she sees this

falsified bet as us bonding. In any case, she sighs and claps Jace lightly around the head. “Next time tell

me so I don’t go picking on Cooper.”

Lila gives me an apologetic smile. Then she says, “Since you’re taking over Cooper’s chores for

the week, you can start chopping the vegetables for dinner.”

Jace groans. I hope for his sake no onions are required. I’ve seen him cutting onions, and the

colorful language that escapes his mouth as he dices is not pretty. He hates onions. He claims he can

smell them for days afterward, and that it makes the piano keys stink when he practices.

When Lila leaves I slink up to Jace. He is concentrating on pouring in the washing powder but he

twitches when I stand next to him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say softly.

“Yeah, I did,” He shuts the lid of the washing machine. “You were about to get really mad at my

mum. She already has a hard enough time with Annie.” He starts the machine and turns around.

He was doing this for her, not me? I back away, hitting my hip against the sink. I’m embarrassed

about how I acted toward Lila.

Jace rests against the machine and stares at me. Heat races to my cheeks, and I stammer, wishing to

God I’d hung the stupid clothes out to dry this morning. “Sorry,” I mumble as I spin for the door.

In two steps, Jace has my arm. “Don’t get like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ll avoid me for the rest of the week now.”

I’d like to lick my wounds in private, thank you. “Avoid you? Hardly possible.”

“You won’t hole yourself away in your room the whole evening?”

Yes, yes, I’d like to do that very much. “Of course not.”

Dammit.

Jace’s grip loosens, and his fingers slip off me one by one. “Good. Because if I’m doing your

chores all week, I want you at my beck and call.”

“Your beck and call?”

Mischief lights his blue eyes. He may as well start rubbing his hands together the way he’s looking

at me. I can hear the maniacal laughter. “Yeah. I might have a few chores of my own that need doing.”

I shake my head but I’m grinning. How can he have this effect on me? “You’re going to milk this,

aren’t you?”

“Like a cow.”

“Jace,” Lila calls from the kitchen. “Start with the onions.”

* * *

The entire meal, Jace stares at me with an evil, I’m-going-to-punish-you stare.

Dad taps his fork against his wine glass. “Listen up, kids.”

I elbow Annie in the side when she mutters something about not being a kid anymore. After what

Jace told me about his mum, enough is enough. It’s time Annie accepts our new life.

“Lila and I have thought this over,” Dad continues, smiling warmly at Lila. His eyes dance with

joy. “This weekend we’re taking our third family trip.”

Annie’s chair squeaks, but other than that she says nothing.

“What? Where?” I ask. I kind of hope we might go hiking again like we did last year. Abel Tasman

rocked. I smother a chuckle at my wit.

“We decided on something outdoorsy—”

“White-water rafting!” Lila bursts out.

Dad squeezes her hand. “It’s a two-day trip. Our gear will be transported to our camping site for us.

So we’ll be tenting.”

“Tenting?” Annie asks. “Like, all together?”

“Well, no,” Dad says. “We have two double tents and a single. We thought the boys could share a

tent, and you could have your own.”

Lila says, “Unless you want to share with your dad. I’m happy to have the single one to myself.”

She tries to engage Annie with a smile.

Annie shrugs. “I’m good with the single.”

It’s quiet for a moment. I fork a piece of broccoli and pop it into my mouth. The onion-garlic taste

makes me smirk. I glance toward Jace’s hands curled around his knife and fork. He’s glaring at Annie,

and I know exactly what he’s thinking.

“I think it sounds awesome,” I say cheerily. I mean it, even though I’m cheering more boisterously

than I normally would.

I excuse myself after we finish eating, but I don’t make it up three stairs before Jace calls my name.

He dries his hands on the tea towel thrown over his shoulder. “Since I have to slave in the kitchen,”

he says, “you have to do the same in my room.”

“Your room?”

“It’s a bit of a mess. Clean it up, would you?” He flashes a wide, mocking smile before returning to

the kitchen.

For a second I contemplate ignoring his command, but I don’t.

His room isn’t bad. The bed is unmade and some clothes and shoes are lying around, but his desk is

orderly. It’s dark in here even though I switched the light on when I came in. His dark grey room

features one turquoise wall. Cozy. I fight the desire to nestle into his blankets and curl up to sleep.

I get to work cleaning. With every breath, I inhale more of Jace. It’s a slightly-sweet citrus smell,

like oranges. His bedclothes feel softer than mine, well worn. I bring the cover up to my chin and nuzzle

against it—but I instantly realize how weird of me that is to do.

I stop nuzzling and start making the bed.

The white splotches on his sheets make me blush. I try not to think too much about what a sixteenyear-

old boy does up here, but the more I force the thought from my mind, the more elaborate is the

imagery.

Bed made, I stuff his clothes into the hamper and straighten his shoes. I yank out one of his Chucks

that’s wedged halfway under the bed, and a few magazines slide out with it.

I blink at the porn in front of me.

It’s the standard stuff that Ernie and Bert like to laugh at and get kinky with. I want to laugh but it’s

not funny. It’s almost—enraging. I don’t understand why this discovery angers me so deeply. Not true,

Cooper. And you know it.

My throat tightens; I shake my head and grit my teeth against that voice in my mind—

Jace clears his throat behind me. “I changed my mind,” he says. “I don’t want you to clean my

room.”

I can’t pull away from the magazines. Big-breasted women in slutty bikinis wink at me like they

know exactly what I want. Bitches don’t have a clue!

And why is that?

Shut up!

Jace crouches next to me and pries a magazine I didn’t even know I’d picked up from my hand. He

frowns and shifts. “I mean, if you want to borrow one—”

“No! Fuck off.”

I stand abruptly. I can’t look at him. Can’t look at his bed. Can’t breathe his citrusy air anymore. I

stumble out of his room, shove on a pair of shoes, and hurry outside. I need . . . I need . . . I need a

stone.

But I’m too close to the house. Its lights are illuminated as though it’s watching me. Judging me.

I can’t stand it. I have to get away. I jog along the stream through the pines, toward the cave. The

wind sluices over my recently cut hair and tunnels down the arms of my green Koru T-shirt—the one

Dad bought me for Christmas. The one that Annie said brings out my eyes in a wicked cool way and