Count on Me Read Online Free Page A

anything.
    With the way he’s hugging me now, I’m starting to think I don’t need the cookies after all.
    “Belle! I painted the coolest picture in art today! You totally gotta see it!”
    Tristan is what doctors like to call Neurotypical, which in human speak means, he’s pretty normal, but when he talks about art, it’s like you see a whole other side to him. He fixates on it, which makes him a lot more like me than anyone wants to admit.
    “Well, what are you waiting for? Show me already!” I say, jumping u p and down with him to show how excited I am. It’s acting like this now that everything from earlier fades away. I’m me and I’m okay again, but more than that, I’m back where it’s safe.
    He races off in what I hope is the direction of his backpack and almost slams into my mom in the process. She’s doing it again. She went to the store, grabbed a whole bunch of groceries and is trying to carry them all in herself, instead of just calling ahead and having me meet her.
    Grabbing two of the bags o ff the pile that are stacked over her head, I place them on the counter and watch as she follows suit.
    “Thanks honey. I really was n’t trying to buy out the store.”
    “I figured, but you just can’t help yourself.”
    “This time, it’s all on your brother. When did he learn how to pout to get his way?”
    “The day you brought him home, I think. He’s just smart about when he uses it.”
    She laughs and the room goes silent as we both set to work unloading the bags and putting everything away where it goes. That’s another thing that we do because of me. We have every area in the kitchen labeled. Three years ago, my Uncle Joe gave me a label maker and I went around making labels for everything until eventually it became so obsessive that everything had to be put away exactly as it’s labeled.
    My mom calls them Belle quirks, but that’s because she’s too nice for her own good. It’s clearly evident that I’m crazy. I don’t have the heart to correct her though, so quirks it is.
    “Honey, where did that bruise come from?” she asks as she points to my shoulder.
    Crap. I knew there w as a reason I liked wearing my jacket so much. Now I’m going to have to tell her everything that happened today, something I don’t want to do.
    “I bum ped into something at school, no biggie.”
    “What kind of something? Those look like fingers marks.”
    I’m getting nervous. I can feel my heart starting to pick up under the scrutiny of her gaze. I really don’t want to talk about this, not when it’s still so fresh. Tristan bringing his picture in right now would be perfect. I need a distraction.
    “Isabelle Reagan, tell me what happened right now and don’t even think about lying.”
    “Some of the kids…”
    “The kids at school did this to you?” she asks, cutti ng me off before I can tell her everything despite my very strong urge not to.
    “Yes, they did, but it’s okay. They were just goofing around. Kayden got me out of there before it went too far.”
    This stops her in her tracks. I haven’t mentioned Kayden’s name since he stopped coming over. For me to bring it up now has to knock the wind right out of her.
    “Kayden Walker?”
    “There’s only one Kayden, Mom.” I answer before turning back to the groceries, putting them away, hoping she’ll drop it now that she knows Kayden brought me home.
    “Are you sure it was nothing?”
    “Yes. Just kids goofing off. They grabbed me a little too hard, but I’m fine Mom, I swear.”
    She’s gonna fall for it because she truly be lieves that if something were the matter, I would bring it to her.
    “Okay well, I’ll finish up in here and start making dinner. I was thinking Irish stew tonight, that sound okay?”
    “Yeah, sounds fine.” I say backing out of the kitchen and going in search of the artwork a certain little brother promised me. As long as I keep myself focused on that, then the events of earlier and more