Free Fated Dreams (Book One In The Affinity series) by Christina Smith Page A

silence.
    “Thank you.
Mom, if you want, I can cook once a week to help you out.”
    She glanced up
from her plate, surprised. “Are you sure? You already have work, school, and
piano, I don’t want to interfere with your homework.”
    “I always do it
when I get home anyway. I have time after that, and once a week isn’t a big
deal.”
    She beamed at
me. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”
    “So what’s with
you and Lucas Tate? I saw you eating with him at lunch today,” Alex mumbled
with his mouth full. My mom grinned; my dad looked worried.
    “Nothing, he
called last night and asked if he could use my history notes, so I lent them to
him at lunch.” I looked down at my food, hoping that if I didn’t make eye
contact, they would forget about it.
    “So why were
you sitting so close and staring into each other’s eyes?” What the hell was
wrong with Alex? Why wouldn’t he let it go? The kid always ignored me, and now
he had a sudden interest in my love life. I narrowed my eyes at him, staring
daggers in his direction, hoping he’d take my hint and shut up.
    He only leaned
back in his chair and gave me a lazy smile.
    “What’s going
on, Sarah? If things are getting serious with this boy, I want to meet him.” My
father had gone white as he dropped his fork down on his plate with a clang.
     “Oh stop it,
there is nothing going on. If there were, I wouldn’t be discussing it with all
of you.” I spun on my brother. “And Alex, what are you doing watching me at
lunch? Mind your own business.” I was yelling, I didn’t know why, but any time
Alex looked at me that way, it made me feel like we were kids again and the
urge for an argument was too strong to fight.
    “You seem a
little defensive, honey,” my mom pointed out, absently running her finger along
her water glass.
    “Well, I feel
like everyone is ganging up on me. What’s with all the questions?” I admit I
was whining and overreacting, but I didn’t care. “I’m finished eating, I’m
going to do my homework.” I shoved back in my chair—the wooden legs rubbed
against the hardwood floor, making my mom cringe—and stomped into the kitchen.
After I put my dishes in the dishwasher, I went upstairs.
     
    I was almost finished with my homework when
my mom knocked on my door and asked if she could come in.
    “Whatever. It’s
your house, I can’t stop you.”
    She stepped in
and shut the door behind her. After walking over, she sat beside me on the bed.
“So what’s wrong? You’re rarely grouchy and whiny all in one night.” She put
her hand on my leg and slapped it lightly.
    I considered
confiding in her about what was really bothering me, and I opened my mouth to start,
but the words wouldn’t come. So I didn’t say anything, just stared out the
window, ignoring her, watching the wind blow the pine tree outside my window. A
branch scraped the glass with a screech.
    She stretched
out beside me, the familiar smell of ginger floating in the air. It had been my
mother’s favorite perfume since I was a kid. Now, when I smelled it, I always
knew she was close by. “I’ve got all night; you’ll feel better after you talk
to someone. If you would rather, I could send up your dad.” She gazed up at the
ceiling and spoke absently.
    I cringed; not
in the least bit interested in discussing boys with my father.
    She snorted. “I
didn’t think so.”
    I lay down
beside her, stubbornly remaining silent. After about ten minutes of strained
quiet, I started to doubt my decision.
    My mother could
also be stubborn, and she was telling the truth when she said she’d wait all
night. So unless I wanted a bed mate, I needed to tell her something just to
get rid of her. I opened my mouth to lie, but instead, the whole truth came
pouring out. I told her about the first dream, and then about the first few
awkward conversations with Lucas, and all of them since.
    I took a deep
breath and began again, lowering my voice to a whisper. “And when I