Free Unlike Any Other (Unexpected #1) by Claudia Burgoa

was in charge of us several times until the hour had passed.
    Instead of acknowledging him, I keep my gaze toward the ocean enjoying the scene and the feeling of having almost all my family under the same roof for the first chance in a long time.
    “Did you go a little psycho-bitch on the new woman?”
    “No.” I lightly shake my head as I wonder why I didn’t. That’s something I always thought I’d do if we ever had a stepmom, being Daddy’s little girl and all that. “Other than asking for him and trespassing while screaming his name like a child about to die, no. Did you MJ?”
    “What, go bitch on her?” he chuckles. “No, I’d have to be an annoying sister to be able to pull that off.”
    He grins and blows me a kiss.
    Ugh, annoying brother.
    “Maybe I spoke to her harsher than I should, but can you blame me? Not that long ago, we got the call saying, ‘Your father and I are calling it off.’ They’re splitting holidays now, what the hell? We’re twenty-four, too old to be dealing with immature parents, if you ask me.”
    “Why didn’t they call me?” I ask, aware that I sound like a whiny child.
    “My guess, because you screamed loud enough that everyone in Canada and Alaska could hear you, ‘I hate you. You two are dead to me,’” JC reminds me as he fakes a squeaky voice. “Your own fault, Princess.”
    “Stop calling me that, you know I hate it.” I exhale and turn around finding his humorous eyes waiting for a better comeback.
    I have nothing.
    “Whatever you say, little sister,” he rolls his eyes. “Just don’t go all full-blown bitch on me.”
    “I’m not your little sister,” I correct.
    In fact, I was the first one to be born, but I won’t go back to that eternal discussion. They both gang up on me with the theory that the last is the first and the first is last and then I’m so confused, they win.
    “And for your information, I’m not that bitch you swear I am.”
    “Your ex said something different,” JC’s shoulders lift in a casual shrug. “While living with him you were somehow bipolar and while enraged, a huge bitch.”
    “True story,” MJ confirms.
    I scratch my ear and think about fighting the image they have of me, but I don’t.
    Knowing that if we go that route, I won’t stick around and listen to Dad finish his tale of the most perfect love in the world. And now that I know there’s no baby involved, the plan to fix his marriage is in motion. I change the topic of conversation to a safer one… and one that’s maybe less painful.
    “Back to splitting holidays,” I say. “Are they really doing that? There should be a way to spend them together… we are, after all, a family. Family stays together.”
    “Says the one who left the house years ago,” MJ adds. “Your shit started it all, AJ. Not that what you said wasn’t true… but let me tell you; you opened Pandora’s Box. Tell you what, to make up with the consequences of their separation—” His hand becomes a spider that travels from his opposite arm to his ear. “Because of this new feeling that’s crawling inside my heart and making me an asshole with the entire human race, you get to host Thanksgiving and make them be in the same room.”
    “No, MJ, I think she’s going to have dinner with Mr. Football Coach and family,” JC says with a terrible southern twang. “Aren’t you, Princess?”
    “You two are just ganging up on me, aren’t you?” I take a deep breath. “Sure we can have Thanksgiving at my tiny studio.”
    I don’t own a table big enough, we can eat on the couch, next to Constantine—my baby grand piano. That will be an unforgettable dinner, no way to keep the parents in different rooms unless one is inside the bathroom and the other outside.
    “No, JC, I’m not having dinner with Mr. Scumbag and family. If you must know, his wife isn’t too crazy about me. You can now call me the southern mistress.”
    “Nose goes,” MJ shouts, like when we were children and