I slump on my chair with defeat. None of this is going the way I expected. Or maybe it’s going exactly how I feared it would.
A timely interruption comes in the form of a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Mr. Pembroke says.
Mrs. Baxter sticks her gray-haired head in the room. “The children’s parents have arrived.”
“Perfect timing,” he says with a pleasant smile. “By all means, send them in.”
As my parents rush through the door, I slouch further onto my seat.
The headmaster rises from his chair as he ushers them into the small office. “Perhaps the children should wait outside while we discuss matters.”
I open my mouth to argue when Dad swings toward me with a harsh glare. “Do as Mr. Pembroke says and wait outside!”
I rise to my feet as Austin does the same and we slink out of the headmaster’s office with our tails tucked between our legs. The door closes firmly behind us as my brother flops onto a chair. My guess is that Pembroke will spin the situation so it appears as if we’re the problem.
Austin flicks his gaze to me. “Why didn’t you tell me about the eggs?”
I shrug and stare straight ahead, not wanting to meet his questioning gaze. “I don’t know. There was enough going on without worrying you over a stupid prank.”
His voice drops, filling with barely suppressed anger. “You shouldn’t have kept it from me, Summer.”
Wanting to diffuse the thick tension brewing between us, I press my lips together and admit, “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
Instead of dropping the conversation, he growls, “You need to stop hiding crap from me. And while you’re at it, stop trying to fight all my battles. I’m more than capable of fighting them myself.”
“That’s not what I was doing,” I mumble, shifting uncomfortably on the scratchy fabric of the chair, because when it comes down to it, that’s exactly what I was doing. What I didn’t realize is that he would understand it. I’ve spent most my life in protective mode where my brother is concerned. It’s a hard habit to break.
Austin’s lips lift into a ghost of a smile. “You might be five minutes older than me, but we’re still the same age. Believe it or not, I’m capable of taking care of myself. You don’t need to treat me like a baby.”
I shake my head. “I don’t—”
“Yeah,” he says, cutting me off, “you do. All the time. I might be dyslexic, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot who can’t deal with his own shit.” He winces before raising his voice. “Sorry about the language, Mrs. Baxter.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She waves her hand from behind the desk she’s sitting at. “I’ve heard much worse.”
Lowering my voice, I whisper, “I don’t think you’re an idiot.” It pains me that he would even suspect that. Being diagnosed with dyslexia has been difficult for Austin and his self-esteem has taken major hits throughout the years because of it. All I’ve ever tried to do is be a good sister and smooth the way for him. Is that so wrong? Wouldn’t he do the same if the situation was reversed?
He raises a brow. “You sure about that?”
“Of course! You’re the furthest thing from an idiot. I…”
“You what?” he asks, voice sharpening.
“I just love you, Aus. And I want to help you any way I can.” I shake my head and stare down at my entwined fingers as emotion gathers in my throat. “Being protective doesn’t mean that I think you can’t take care of yourself.”
“Well, that’s the way it feels.”
“I’m sorry.” It was never my intention to hurt Austin. He’s the one person I want to see succeed in life more than anyone. If I’ve overstepped my boundaries, it was done out of love.
“How about from now on, you let me deal with my own problems? You might not realize this, but you won’t always be around to fix everything. I need to do it myself.”
I bite my lip. The idea of us being separated next year when we go to college is one I try not to think about. What am I going to do without my brother at my side?
“Summer? Did you hear what I said?”
A thick lump forms in the middle of my throat as I jerk my head into a tight nod.
“And,” he continues, gaze piercing mine, “if there are things I need to know about, like people messing with you or our car, I want you to be straight with me.” He pauses, allowing his words to sink in. “I’m the one who should be protecting you. Not the other way around. Understand?”
“Yeah,” I mumble, “I got it.”
“Good.” His lips quirk before he reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad we had this little convo.”
I roll my eyes. When he knocks his shoulder into mine, I laugh and the tension between us dissolves. Ten minutes later, the door to the office swings open and our parents stalk out. Austin and I jump to our feet. Griffin and Eloise don’t look happy.