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she says you don’t want to miss out on it, if
it’s one Niahm made.”
    Sam doesn’t have much choice now but to open
the container and eat the piece of apple pie residing within.
Normal conversation resumes for the most part. Sam eats the pie
slowly, glaring my way momentarily then turning a charming smile on
Heather. He manages to convey utter pleasure at the taste, while
maintaining a distantly angry look. It becomes difficult to watch
him, but I refuse to look away, even if he won’t return my
look—even if I am ashamed at my stupid temper tantrum. No one seems
to notice this little drama occurring in their midst—except for
Stacy, who is kicking me under the table.
    Yeah, that’s gonna leave a mark.
     
     

Chapter 4

Sam
    I lower myself into one of the kitchen
chairs, throwing the remainder of the apple pie on the table in
front of me. I pick up the fork and dig in like a starving man.
    “How was school?” Shane smirks, and I throw
him a dirty look. He laughs. “That bad, huh?”
    He takes a seat across from me, jerking his
chin toward the pie.
    “Gonna share?”
    I growl at him, and he laughs again.
    “Guess not. Want to talk about it?”
    “No,” I mutter, shoving another bite in my
mouth. How can someone so wicked make something so heavenly? “I
mean, I really don’t know what I did to her.”
    Shane’s eyebrows shoot up, but he remains
otherwise calm. “Her?”
    “Niahm…” I break off, realizing I have no
idea what her last name is.
    “Eve?” Shane repeats.
    “No, Niahm. N-I-A-H-M. Niahm.”
    Shane sits up a little straighter at the
spelled name.
    “Samuel…” his voice is a warning.
    “No, I know. I know it’s not her. Trust me I know how much it isn’t her.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning the Niahm I knew was sweet, kind,
loving. This one is… not .”
    “Well, that clears it up,” Shane’s teasing
tells me he’s off guard once again, as he relaxes back against his
chair back.
    “She just… no matter what I say, she takes
offense.”
    “And you care because…?”
    I’m silent as I continue devouring the pie,
and Shane gives the table a little rattle.
    “I don’t, okay?” I growl at him.
    “Look, Samuel, I know you’re used to girls
just throwing themselves at your feet—” his sentence ends in a
grunt as I push the table with severe force into his ribcage. He
lifts his hands in surrender as he tries to catch his breath. To be
fair, I may have cracked a rib with the force of it, and though I
know it will be healed within minutes, I feel bad about the pain
that I know came with it. I gulp down the last bite and shove away
from the table, tossing the empty pie pan and fork into the
sink.
    “Wash those,” he says, his voice nearly back
to normal.
    “You’re not my father,” I say, but pull out
the sponge and begin washing them anyway. Shane and I have lived
together, moved around together for most of our lives. There are
times when we grind on one another’s nerves enough that we have to
be apart for a time. Shane really is my uncle—my great uncle.
    It’s more convenient to live with him in the
paternal role and myself in the teen role, to keep our story more
feasible. But with two men, who’ve lived as long as we have, there
are bound to be some conflicts. So we might take a few decades
apart, but somehow always find our way back together. Just one
family member, no matter how authoritative, is better than the
crushing loneliness.
    “Cheer up, Samuel. Your babies are coming
today.”
    I turn at his announcement, feeling lit up
inside.
    “Today?”
    “Yup,” he confirms. “I got the name of a
local stable where we can board the horses until we get our own
stable refurbished.”
    Shane knows me well enough to know how much
this announcement can change my attitude. It’s been a while since
I’ve been able to have my own horse, Autumn Star, with me, as we’ve
been living in large cities. Moving to a small town was my request.
Shane didn’t have to come,