Chapter 3

Dad had his head down, picking crabmeat out of the shell for Kenneth. Lenora ladled chowder for him while Mom kept piling food onto his plate.

"Kenneth, eat up. Look how thin you are."

"This baked lemon butter salmon was made especially for you. You said you like fish."

"Slow down. Don't burn yourself."

Under the warm yellow light, they sat gathered around the table, all smiles. The scene was so heartwarming it hurt to look at.

They looked like a happy family of four—and I was like an intruder who had barged in at the wrong time, disrupting their harmony.

When Mom noticed me, she froze for a second. "Jonah, come sit down. Why are you just standing there?"

I said nothing and just stared quietly at my seat.

Kenneth caught my gaze and looked up, glancing at me timidly before lowering his head again.

He knew perfectly well that it was my seat, but he sat there without budging an inch, as if he had no idea what my look meant.

I let out a quiet laugh. Then I walked over to the table, scooped a little food into a bowl, and turned to head upstairs.

"Stop right there," Dad barked in a low, stern voice, displeasure written all over his face. "What do you think you're doing?"

"There's no place for me at this table anymore, so don't bother setting one for me."

"Jonah, how can you say something like that?" Mom frowned. "It's Kenneth's first day here. Can't you act a little more mature?"

"I am being mature. That's why I'm taking the hint and getting out of the way."

Kenneth's eyes turned red instantly. He bit his lip, his voice choked with tears. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have come, should I? I've upset Jonah…"

"It's not your fault, Kenneth," Mom said, hurrying to pull him into her arms, her heart clearly aching for him. "Jonah's the one being immature. Don't let it get to you."

Lenora set her fork down and looked at me with equal disappointment. "Jonah, what's gotten into you today?"

I didn't say another word. With my bowl in hand, I turned and went upstairs.

…

After dinner, Mom brought a bowl of chowder up to my room.

"Jonah, you barely touched your dinner. I had the cook make this especially for you," she said as she set it down on my desk, her tone gentle and almost eager to please.

It was beef chowder, my favorite. But as I looked at it, it stirred no warmth in me.

I could see the uneasy, hesitant look on Mom's face—she looked like she had something to say but couldn't bring herself to say it. She clearly wanted a favor.

"Mom, whatever it is, just say it," I said, cutting to the point instead of letting her beat around the bush.

Caught off guard, Mom offered an awkward smile.

"Actually, it's nothing major. It's just…" She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "I wanted to run something by you. Could you drop down from the honors class to a regular one?"

I froze with the bowl in my hand.

"Kenneth comes from a small town. He just got here, and everything is new to him," Mom said, a pleading note creeping into her voice. "You're his older brother. It'd be great if you could look out for him at school. Your grades are already good, so it doesn't matter which class you're in, right?"

I looked down at the chowder. Steam drifted up, blurring my vision.

At that moment, a single mouthful of it suddenly felt like too much to swallow.

I put the bowl down and looked up at Mom. "No."

Mom frowned. "Just help me out this once, okay? Kenneth's really shy. If no one looks out for him, he'll be completely lost and lonely at school."

"So that means sacrificing me?" My voice was calm, but every word came out distinct and razor-sharp. "I worked hard to get into the honors class because I'm aiming for Ashcroft University and other top colleges in the country."

Mom grew anxious.