The MirrorMasters

Chapter 9

At daybreak, I awoke outside on my lounge chair, wrapped in a blanket. My first awareness was of bright light, fresh breeze, and the gentle sounds of the surf. The candle on the table beside me had long since gone out. Groaning, I sat up and stretched, a dream from last night still fresh in my mind, as if I'd been there. I could still feel harsh, unrelenting wind and sand scrape my skin raw, my heart pound so hard in terror I thought I'd pass out, and the fierce ache in my chest as I watched a little girl and her family obliterated by a sandstorm. Yet my arms held no sign of injury when I examined them.

Just a dream. It wasn't real.

Then I remembered I had work that morning and quickly stood. "Oh, no! What time is it?" My heart skipped a beat as I imagined running late on my first day and Celia's disappointment in me. Why hadn't my alarm gone off, or my parents come in to wake me? Eyes wide and frantic, I raced inside to check the little alarm clock on my nightstand and almost collapsed in relief when it turned out to be only half past six o'clock. I'd have plenty of time to shower and eat breakfast.

By the time I entered the kitchen, dressed in grey Bermuda shorts and a Kelly green blouse with my most comfortable flats, I was the last to arrive. A rich aroma of coffee greeted me, lifting my spirits and easing my nerves. Let the mischief twins do their worst. I could handle whatever challenges this new job would throw at me. The rest of my family already sat around the table, helping themselves to toast and fresh fruit, and pouring cereal and orange juice. Mom seemed fixated on her newspaper that she held up like a barrier.

"'Morning," I said, managing a cheerful smile for them. "Hey, David, can I get a ride with you to work?"

"Sure thing." He didn't so much as look at me.

"Thanks." I sank into my chair, sighing. No one spoke after that.

A stony silence suffocated the air between David and Dad. They glared at each other, each refusing to back down from something I didn't understand. I gave David a questioning glance, but he shook his head subtly, indicating that he didn't want to talk about it here in front of our parents. Maybe he didn't want to talk about it with me at all.

Oh. Dad must have found out what David had done, that David had chosen to attend culinary school and turned down his last opportunity to go to university at our parents' alma mater after Dad had pulled strings to get him one last shot at going there. Sure, Dad would take David's rejection of the offer as a slap in the face, but it was the only thing David could do. How could he possibly turn down this amazing opportunity to attend culinary school, even one located on the other side of the country?

"I see." I sighed and dropped my gaze to my plate. Most of my good mood evaporated, and the muscles in my shoulders and back tensed. This was going to get ugly, and I couldn't wait to get out of here before that happened.

"David, you will think about what we've discussed. I expect you to email the dean and apologize before you leave for work, and you'll accept that offer," Dad said.

"Or what, Dad? Look, I appreciate what you tried to do for me, but that's the life you want, not me. I've already secured my scholarship and have everything set to go to culinary school. It's what I want to do with my life, and you don't seem to understand how incredible an opportunity this is for me. A thousand people applied, for only ten openings. A thousand! And I wasn't even waitlisted! They wanted me from the start. They're going to prepare me for my future, and it'll be a good one. I wish you could see that."

"You're going to make the call after breakfast. End of discussion."

David set his spoon down with a clang, glaring. "Well, at least that's one thing we agree on. We're done talking about this. And we have to get to work. Come on, Leah, let's get out of here."