Lost in the Sun Read Online Free Page A

apparently we’re both pretty good at not splatting raw eggs into the grass. We got a trophy and everything—Dad kept it on the bookshelf in his and Kari’s living room. To be honest, it wasn’t the worst time I’ve ever had in my life, winning that race with Dad. But even last fall, being joined at the leg to my father by a handkerchief wasn’t exactly on my top ten list of things to do with myself, and now it
definitely
wasn’t.
    We were all quiet for a while after that, waiting for our food. Dad started answering a message. Doug went to unscrewing the lids of the salt and pepper shakers, which he obviously was
not
supposed to do, but no one stopped him.
    â€œMe and Annie and Rebecca are going to make cookies tomorrow,” Doug told no one in particular. “With Annie’s old lady friend Mrs. Finch. She makes good cookies.”
    â€œThat’s nice,” Dad said, still checking his phone.
    â€œYou’ve been spending a lot of time with those girls lately,” Kari said, smiling that stretched-out smile of hers.
    â€œYeah,” Doug said. “It’s . . .” He looked like he was thinking about something for a second, but then he shook his head and returned his focus to the salt and pepper shakers. “They’re nice.”
    I didn’t know why Doug had to suddenly start spending all his time with two girls, especially
those
two girls. Rebecca was fine, whatever. Her dad, Dr. Young, was our family doctor. But Annie . . . Annie Richards was Jared Richards’s little sister. And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Doug felt it was necessary to become her best friend in the entire world. He’d been friends with her in day care, back when it made sense to be friends with whoever happened to sit next to you during snack time on the first day, and then they’d sort of grown apart, which made sense, too. But in the last few months, Doug had been acting like it was his personal mission to spend every waking second with her. Back in July he’d even turned our entire front yard into an obstacle course that he built just for her, made mostly out of pool noodles that he stole from Aaron’s lifeguarding job.
    I mean, it’s not like I thought they sat around talking about how I killed her older brother or anything. But what
did
they talk about?
    I just didn’t get why they had to be friends, that’s all.
    â€œDoug, don’t mess with the salt,” I told him, once I figured outwhat he was doing. Pouring a thin layer of pepper into the top of the saltshaker, so you’d reach for salt, but get pepper on your fries instead. “They’re going to kick us out.”
    â€œYou’re not the boss of me,” Doug snapped back.
    â€œI’ll show you who’s the boss of you,” I told him, making a fist across the table.
    â€œBoys, settle down,” Dad barked at us. “Can’t we have one dinner where you don’t fight?”
    â€œBut Doug’s trying to prank people,” I argued. I didn’t know why I bothered. Everyone knew that Dad’s favorite kids went: Aaron, Doug, me. And I was only on the list because you had to put all your sons on there
somewhere.
“And you hate pranks.”
    Doug did a lousy job of screwing the lid back on the saltshaker, and then he slid it across the table back to where it went next to the ketchup. “You ruin all my best pranks,” he pouted at me.
    â€œYou don’t have any best pranks,” I told him. Seriously, Doug was the world’s worst pranker. Aaron was good, and I wasn’t too shabby either, but Doug never managed to pull anything off without botching it somehow. Last week, Aaron had pulled probably his best prank ever, which was covering the toilet bowl with Saran Wrap, so that when Doug went to pee, the stream went
everywhere
and Doug thought he’d gone crazy. It was pretty funny until Mom had a