Page 30 of Scheme
Violet: Are you sure? Is everything okay?
Me: Just a long week. Have a good night!
That wasn’t a lie. It had felt like averylong week, mostly spent stuck inside my own head, which was a fairly awful place to be at the moment.
I headed back to the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking at the neat stack of containers filled with perfectly balanced, nutritious meals I’d prepped earlier in the week, not feeling particularly inspired by anything.
Maybe I should make a cottage pie and drop it around to Michelle? The baby hadn’t been sleeping well recently, and I was sure she could use some meals in the fridge.
My phone buzzed again, and I pulled it out of my pocket, steeling myself to assure Violet again that I really was fine hanging out alone tonight.
Asher: What are you doing? Taytum and Jules are going to this food festival thing in the city, and me and Chelsea blackmailed them into bringing us along too!
“Little shit,” I muttered, shutting the fridge door with my hip while I tapped out a reply.
Me: What do you mean you blackmailed them? Why do you sound so proud of this? What festival?
Asher: Spring Food Fest, I think it’s near your house?
I quickly looked it up, noting it was being hosted at a park two train stops away.
Me: I’m heading over now to take you two hellions off Jules and Taytum’s hands. You can explain the blackmail in person.
Asher: They ditched us as soon as we got here. Yes, come join us!
I groaned, not bothering to check my face or hair, just pulling on a cardigan and grabbing my purse and shoes. They were both far too confident for their own good. Usually, my parents kept a closer eye on them—or at least Chelsea—but I was guessing they were distracted after Calum.
They probably also assumed that Chelsea and Asher were careful, obedient teenagers the way all their other children had been. Even Calum had been mostly cooperative at that age, but his challenges to authority were seen as a rite of passage anyway.
Chelsea and Asher were a different breed of kid, though, made of whatever fearless substance youngest siblings were constructed out of.
I was at the park within half an hour, tucking my purse close to my body so I didn’t bump into anyone and weaving my way through the crowd. It was busier than I expected, though the afternoon was a warm, sunny one and there were still plenty of hours of daylight left, so I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised. Fortunately, the delicious scents of food coming from the various trucks and food stalls made the smell of the crowd tolerable at least as I hunted through people for my wayward siblings.
I spotted Jules’ dark curly hair first, finding her sitting on a fence with Taytum standing between her legs, feeding my sister a churro. Fortunately, Taytum had quick reflexes, since Jules nearly fell off the fence when she saw me.
“Where are they?” I asked by way of greeting.
Jules had the grace to look sheepish, her pretty face flushing pale pink—not the splotchy shade of magenta I went when I got embarrassed. “They’re around here somewhere. I said they weren’t allowed to leave the park.”
I gave her my best disapproving big sister face before heading back into the crowd, shooting Asher a message to meet me at the taco truck near the centre.
“Oh hey sis,” Asher said cheerfully, scaring the life out of me as he popped up behind me with some pink candy floss on a stick as big as his head in one hand, and a can of lemonade in the other. “You got here quick.”
Chelsea clutched her drink in front of her, looking slightly less brazen about her shenanigans. Asher was the baby of the two of them, but absolutely the lead troublemaker.
“You two are in my bad books,” I told them sternly, not actually that upset now I saw them safe and sound in front of me. “At least next time message mebeforeyou go out. And use some scentshield, you both reek of baby omega,” I grumbled, fishing a tube of Om-Guard out of my purse and handing it to them. Aside from the general risks associated with being an omega, pubescent alphas and omegas had a particularly pungent scent that was incredibly unpleasant for those who had reached maturity. It was a smell that really shouldn’t be inflicted on anyone.
It was the same scent that could also make them trafficking targets.
“For sure, we’ll message you next time,” Asher agreed solemnly, the lying little shit. “Can I borrow some money? I ran out and Chels won’t share.”
Chelsea rolled her eyes, applying the lotion. “I already bought you lemonade.”
“I’ll go buy us all some real food,” I interjected. “Candy floss does not a balanced meal make. Let’s look around and find what we want to eat.”
“Mmk,” Asher replied cheerfully, falling into step next to me while Chelsea appeared on my other side. “You know, you really shouldn’t be cross with us. What were we supposed to do when Jules said she was coming out? Stay athome?”
“Yes? They’re on adate, Asher.”
