Free Sleeping in Eden by Nicole Baart

off?”
    â€œMom.” Meg glared. “I was not showing off.”
    â€œProving yourself.”
    â€œSomething like that.”
    Linda looked hard at her daughter for a long moment. Then, sitting back in her chair, she crossed her arms over her chest and muttered, “Mm-hmm.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing,” Linda said, but she leaned over and gave Meg a quick, smacking kiss on the forehead.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWhat, what?” Greg asked walking back into the dining room with sixteen-year-old Bennett in tow.
    â€œNothing,” Linda said again. “Sit down, both of you. Supper’s getting cold.”
    Meg watched as Bennett slumped down opposite her. He studied the table with all the disinterest of a stereotypical angst-ridden teen. His half-closed eyes and the way he swiped his hand beneath his nose as if he hardly realized the appendage was attached to his body made Meg giggle. It was all an act. She knew that when the music blared in his bedroom and he was supposed to be staring blankly at the ceiling daydreaming about girls—maybe even her own best friend—he was actually penning advanced calculus homework in his careful hand. More than once she had caught him in the act, and by the way he reacted, Meg was convinced that he couldn’t have been more embarrassed if she had caught him smoking a joint. The thought only made her giggle harder.
    Bennett looked up at her for the first time since walking into the room. “What’s your problem?” he challenged. Then, seeing her cheek, he added, “Another fall, Little Miss Tony Hawk?”
    â€œHe’s a skater,” Meg said, rolling her eyes.
    â€œOh, I forgot. You’re a biker.” The way Bennett said the word made it sound as if nothing could be more distasteful. “So lame, Megs. So completely pathetic.”
    Meg was about to bite back when her parents both cut in.
    â€œIt was an accident,” Linda said.
    â€œDylan talked her into it,” Greg accused.
    Bennett looked from parent to parent, apparently measuring their words before he turned his gaze to his sister. “This Dylan boy sounds like trouble to me.”
    Meg was incensed. Bennett took no interest in her life whatsoever except to screw it up when given the chance. She longed to leap across the table and yank at his longish curls. She’d call him a wannabe, a poseur. It was common knowledge that shehad more nerve, spunk, and spirit than her quiet, straight-A brother. He was a closet nerd.
    But Meg never got the chance.
    Linda grabbed her daughter’s hand forcefully and gave her husband a pointed look. “Pray,” she said, her request a thinly veiled command.
    And though Meg could tell that her dad wanted to follow up Bennett’s commentary with more Dylan abuse, he obeyed his wife and bowed his head.
    Meg followed suit, but after her father had said a few lines, she dared to sneak a peek across the table at her brother. He was looking at her, and when she caught his eye, he thrust his chin at her in an unspoken challenge. She grinned, and knowing that he wouldn’t make a sound, kicked his shin beneath the table with all the strength she could muster.
    Bennett’s gaze flickered, but he didn’t even wince. Instead, he winked, and mouthed something that looked an awful lot like “He’s using you.”
    Or maybe Meg only saw what she had already started to believe.

5

LUCAS
    L ucas woke up with light behind his eyes. The sun was streaming in the window beside the bed he used to share with Jenna, and without looking, Lucas knew that a glowing sliver of gold was pouring itself across the pillow. His mouth was dry. His bones hummed with the ache of a deep, dreamless sleep, the kind of twinge that invited his body to stretch and unfold itself in a morning jog. But instead of rolling out of bed, he rolled over. His years-old routine was becoming more of a memory than a daily habit.
    The