Free The MirrorMasters by Lora Palmer

talk about it with me at all.
    Oh. Dad must have found out what David had done, that David had chosen to attend culinary school and turned down his last opportunity to go to university at our parents’ alma mater after Dad had pulled strings to get him one last shot at going there. Sure, Dad would take David's rejection of the offer as a slap in the face, but it was the only thing David could do. How could he possibly turn down this amazing opportunity to attend culinary school, even one located on the other side of the country?
    "I see." I sighed and dropped my gaze to my plate. Most of my good mood evaporated, and the muscles in my shoulders and back tensed. This was going to get ugly, and I couldn't wait to get out of here before that happened.
    "David, you will think about what we've discussed. I expect you to email the dean and apologize before you leave for work, and you'll accept that offer," Dad said.
    "Or what, Dad? Look, I appreciate what you tried to do for me, but that's the life you want, not me. I've already secured my scholarship and have everything set to go to culinary school. It's what I want to do with my life, and you don't seem to understand how incredible an opportunity this is for me. A thousand people applied, for only ten openings. A thousand! And I wasn't even waitlisted! They wanted me from the start. They're going to prepare me for my future, and it'll be a good one. I wish you could see that."
    "You're going to make the call after breakfast. End of discussion."
    David set his spoon down with a clang, glaring. "Well, at least that's one thing we agree on. We're done talking about this. And we have to get to work. Come on, Leah, let's get out of here."
    My facial muscles tightened into a pained expression. All this arguing made my head ache, and I needed to get out of there. Giving Mom a quick kiss on the cheek and Dad a doleful wave, I placed my dishes in the sink, then allowed my brother to steer me out. Dad followed us, as I’d expected, but we made it to the car quickly enough. There was nothing he could do. I leaned my head back against the headrest and sighed in relief, dispelling some of my tension.
    "He's not going to let it go, is he?" I asked as we pulled out of the driveway.
    While David focused on driving, I glanced back at the door, where our father watched us pull away. He had a stern frown, his arms crossed in anger. His pose screamed fury, and I found myself again wondering why Dad let himself get so worked up. Why couldn't he accept the fact that David had to choose his own way? But Dad was so driven, such a "Type A" personality, that I worried he would one day give himself a heart attack. I couldn't take it and had to turn away from the sight of my father standing there so tense and stiff.
    A strong breeze blew through the open car windows, whipping my hair around as David turned onto the main thoroughfare. Eventually, my thoughts centered on the work day ahead, and excitement replaced my worry. I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes ‘till eight o’clock. We passed cars, bicycles, and pedestrians along the palm tree-lined boulevard. Closer to the town center, traffic became more congested, and I started thinking I probably should have run along the beach to town. I checked my watch again. Four minutes ‘till eight o’clock. I tapped my foot and bit my lip. After what felt like forever, we finally reached the town square parking lot and eased into the nearest open space. Two minutes to go.
    "See you later, after work if not at lunchtime. Good luck today!" Unbuckling my seatbelt, I wasted no time jumping out of the car.
    "You too."
    With a quick wave, I sprinted for Celia’s house, which stood across from the square. I heaved a sigh of relief when I pushed open the door with barely a moment to spare. The Mischief twins scowled, probably disappointed that I wasn’t late.
    "Ah, Leah, right on time." Celia greeted me with a firm handshake. "Let’s get you