Brainy and the Beast Read Online Free

“I know, Nick. I know. Sometimes I wonder where your mom and I went wrong. How could she just leave her own son? But I can’t… I don’t—”
    Hearing my dad beat up on himself just pissed me off even more. “You didn’t do anything wrong. My sister has never once taken responsibility for anything. A kid didn’t slow her down, so I’m damn sure nothing you could do would make a difference.”
    Grant had become my responsibility when Lindsey took off two years ago. Like a weasel, she’d left a letter to me in his book bag. When Lindsey hadn’t shown up to get him after school one Friday, Grant had walked the three miles home. The kid had actually spent Friday and Saturday by himself before he finally phoned my old man. Then my dad had called me in a panic, spluttering over the phone about what Lindsey had done.
    The kid had been in seventh grade, and The Bitch had just dumped him like he was garbage. There was a word that started with C that I liked to call my sister, but my dad was usually inclined to slap me if I said it in front of him.
    Shaking his head, my dad sighed. “Well, how about if you try to play something on that Wii with him?”
    Like the kid wanted to be around me. “All right, I guess.” Tugging at the waistband of my jeans, I headed into the living room. Grant ignored me when I sat down on the couch next to him.
    Huh. The springs on this section were a little shot. I grimaced. I’d never had to worry about my furniture when it was only me living in the house. When my nephew moved in, I’d asked my dad to move in too, so that someone would always be around for the kid. Now I had to worry about whether we had the right furniture, make sure laundry got done, figure out what to eat every day. Christ. How did real parents do it?
    “What’s the matter with you?” Grant waved his hand in front of my face.
    “Huh?”
    “You’ve been staring at the couch for ten minutes. What’s your problem?”
    It hit me just then that this kid really looked like me. Our eyes were the same hazel, our hair, even the shape of his face matched mine. I’d always hated that my jaw was a little big, and now Grant was cursed with it too.
    “Uh. I thought that—well, want to play something on this?” I waved my hand vaguely at the Wii.
    “You? Want to play with me?” He pointed a finger at his chest.
    Did he have to sound so surprised? “Uh, yeah. What do you like to play on here?” We’d gotten the Wii a month ago, after the school counselor had suggested it.
    “You even know how to play any of these games?”
    Did the kid have to make it sound like I was a no-talent loser? “Maybe not, but I can still kick your butt.” I’d been on the football team in high school. How hard could this stupid thing be?
    I swear Grant was trying to keep from laughing at me. “Uh-huh, Uncle Nick. Right.” He still tossed one of the remotes my way.
    I stared at the buttons on it. I’d played my share of Nintendo, but that had been when I was a teenager. This remote didn’t look like what I remembered.
    “You have any idea how to use that?”
    I could not have been this mouthy when I was Grant’s age, could I? I shot a glare at my father, who was leaning against the kitchen doorway. He’d obviously gotten past our short discussion, since he was standing there with a smirk on his face. I turned the controller over in my hands.
    “Here. Let me show you how to use it.” Grant’s long-suffering tone raised my blood pressure a couple of points. I hated to feel dumb about anything.
    Trouble was, that happened a lot.

Chapter Three
    The next morning, I headed to the garage a little early. Because of my hours and the demands of the shop, Dad was in charge of making sure the kid had breakfast and that all homework was in the book bag. I’d had to talk my old man into it when he’d moved into my house, but he’d eventually agreed to work fewer hours at the garage. That way, he could be home when Grant got back from