Free Double Vision by Tia Mowry

running.
    Finally Cait glanced over from the stove, where she was stirring soup. “Mom looks pretty tired, don’t you think?”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “Maybe the new job’s turning out to be more than she can handle.”
    Cait looked down into the soup pot. “Doubtful. Mom can handle anything.” But she didn’t sound sosure. She shot an uneasy glance in the direction of the bathroom.
    Hmm. Maybe this was my chance. What if Cait was beginning to think the same way I was? If we teamed up, it might be easier to convince Mom to admit she’d made a mistake by bringing us here.
    â€œListen, Cait,” I said, dropping my book on the sofa and stepping into the kitchen. I leaned against the chipped countertop, watching my sister stir. “Do you get the feeling she’s not that into being here?”
    Cait rolled her eyes. “I get the feeling you’re not that into it. Mom seems fine.”
    â€œReally?” I pursed my lips. “Maybe you should start paying more attention. Because I think she’s already regretting the move.”
    â€œWhat makes you say that?” Cait kept her eyes on the soup.
    â€œLots of little hints.” I shrugged. “The point is, you probably shouldn’t get too comfortable at Aura Middle School, or with your geeky new friends. Because I can tell Mom’s not happy. I have a strong feeling we’ll be back in San Antonio in time to go tothe Holiday River Parade in November.”
    â€œYou do, hmmmm?”
    Uh-oh. That wasn’t Cait. It was Mom.
    I spun around to face her. She’d come into the kitchen without me hearing, padding along on bare feet. She stared at me sternly, wrapped in her favorite red-flowered kimono robe, with one eyebrow cocked.
    â€œOh, hi, Mom. Didn’t hear you there,” I said weakly. “I was just saying . . .”
    â€œI heard what you were just saying, Cassandra,” Mom said, her voice like iron. “And I’m telling you to knock it off.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œNo. You need to listen.” The scarymama voice was back. “We’re in Aura to stay, and there’s zero chance we’re moving back, so you’d better get used to it. Both of you.” Mom expanded her glare to include Caitlyn for a second before focusing her laser eyes back on me. “My new job is going fine so far. It’s a big adjustment, of course, like I know that moving here is an adjustment for you two.”
    â€œBut—” I tried again.
    â€œBut,” Mom cut me off, “I fully intend to work hard to fit in with the force here and make a career out of it. I suggest you do the same at school.” Then her expression softened. “I do hope you’ll make an effort to be happy here, girls. Aura is our home now. And I know it can be a good place for all of us.”
    She held my gaze steadily, and I tried to find a smidgen of doubt in her deep-brown eyes.
    Nothing. Could she really mean what she was telling me? Was I really stuck here—forever?
    Caitlyn cleared her throat. “Um, the soup’s ready,” she said softly.
    â€œGood.” Mom finally broke my gaze, turning to sniff at the steam rising from the pot. “Smells great; I’m famished.”
    â€œNot me,” I muttered, backing out of the kitchen. “In fact, I’ve totally lost my appetite. Think I’ll go finish my homework.”
    â€œStop right there,” Mom ordered. “Homework can wait. We’re eating dinner as a family—all three of us.”
    I was tempted to argue, but what was the point? I felt grown-up, but in the eyes of the world I was still a kid, which meant I had no rights. And apparently no voice, even in my own family. So I took my seat at the tiny table without another word, trying to ignore the way my chair wobbled on the uneven floor and the faint smell of burned food that still lingered even after scrubbing the whole house