Pyxis: The Discovery (Pyxis Series) by K.C. Neal Read Free Book Online Page B

those words don’t mean anything to me that I can think of. It must be important if you’re finally writing to me. I still don’t get why you’re giving me the silent treatment. It’s stupid, and you know it. Games are so not your style. I’ll be back on Friday and I’m going to MAKE you talk to me. We can’t be like this, esp not after what happened. You ARE going to explain all of this to me, right?
    My face heated up a little when I remembered his words. He was right—the silent treatment thing was pretty lame. I hadn’t written back to him. I didn’t really know what to say. He obviously had no idea that Ang had seen him with Sophie after the Winter Solstice Festival—the day after he’d kissed me —or he’d know why I was ignoring him.
    But he’d be home in a few days. My pulse sped. I was going to have to face him, finally. I felt a mix of anger, nerves, and a tiny pinpoint of something else—anticipation, maybe?—at the prospect of it.
    I’d told Ang that Mason didn’t seem to know anything and that he was returning next week, but I didn’t give her the full details of his message. She tried to ask me how I felt about it, but I evaded her questions.
    We arrived at the café with a few minutes to spare, so we went back to the kitchen in search of a snack.
    My dad hunched over an oven door he had cracked open. His sous chef, a plump woman in her thirties named Lynn, stood at the huge mixer, adding something from a measuring cup to the mixing bowl. She smiled and waved at us. The kitchen smelled amazing, like roasted vegetables, melted cheese, garlic, and herbs.
    “Mm, is that lasagna?” I asked, and my mouth watered a little.
    “It is,” Dad said, and opened the oven door a little wider so we could peek in. “You can take some for dinner tonight. How was school?”
    “Oh, it was … school.” I shrugged.
    I hated it when Mom asked me that type of question because I felt like she wanted me to tell her some juicy gossip or mind-blowing fact I learned in history class. But it was just high school . And this was Tapestry . Nothing much ever happened. Well … until recently, I guess. But when Dad asked me about school, I could tell he got that it was routine. He didn’t expect me to burst into a song and dance number like my life was some kind of ridiculous musical.
    “Sandwiches left over from lunch.” He nodded at one of the coolers, the kind you see in the grocery store dairy section, and turned back to the chicken breasts. “You’re welcome to split one.”
    “Cool. Thanks, Dad.” I slid one of the doors back and picked egg salad on sourdough. I gave Ang a smirk. “Don’t worry, I have gum in case Toby comes in.”
    She flushed pink, and I giggled. It was her Pavlovian response: I said his name, and she blushed furiously. I tried not to tease her about Toby too often, but sometimes I couldn’t resist.
    We sat at one of the empty tables and ate in silence. I was thinking about the cookies, wondering who would come into the coffee shop this afternoon, and trying not to think about Mason’s return. I’d have to talk to him. I’d have to tell him about the list. And the truth was that I really hoped he could help us figure out what it all meant. My insides twisted around like my intestines were tying themselves into slow knots, and it was all I could do to finish my half of the egg salad sandwich.
    We walked through the doorway from the café into the adjoining coffee shop, where the rich aroma of espresso replaced that of lasagna. Del, a retired teacher who worked a few hours a week in the coffee shop, let me take over the till and started counting out his half of the tips. He handed the other half to Marissa, the barista, and the two of them left.
    Ang put on her sky-blue barista apron with the Rainbow Café’s logo on it, and we surveyed the place. A couple who looked barely out of high school sat side-by-side on the loveseat near the door, their coffees ignored on the table while