The Reece Malcolm List Read Online Free PDF Page B

like I’m not even here, that’s just fine.
    “We’ll see.” Brad sets a plate in front of my mother and kisses the top of her head before going back to the stove. Knowing they’re in, like, True Love is a weird thing to comprehend. I feel a weird surge of happiness for them, along with a lame zap of jealousy that I could have made it to sixteen without any boys even wanting to kiss me.
    Also, ugh, really? Dad is dead and my long-lost mother would have totally preferred to stay long-lost, and I’m feeling sorry for myself about boys ?
    “What are you doing today?” my mother asks Brad. “You’ll have time to unpack those boxes in the living room, yeah? I’m sick of it looking like squatters live here.”
    “I can’t unpack those until we get another shelf,” he says. “But if you’d like, I could take care of that.”
    “ Fan -tastic,” she says before turning to me. “We’ll get everything you need, all right? And we can grab dinner tonight so you can see more of L.A.”
    “Um, sure. Seriously, though, I don’t need much.”
    “You didn’t bring much,” she says very matter-of-factly, which is true, though I still feel like I messed up.
    Brad sits down with his own plate of pancakes, as my mother and I are finishing. “Reece, before you leave, did you see I bought you another headset for your phone?”
    “I did see, and I’ll deal with it later,” she says, jumping to her feet. “Thanks, though. I think we’ll be out all day. You can keep yourself occupied?”
    “I’ll manage. Give me five minutes and I’ll fix your phone before you go.”
    My mother rolls her eyes but sits back down as Brad dashes out of the room. “Have you been to L.A. before?”
    I shake my head.
    “So no requests on where we shop or eat?”
    I shake my head again, as Brad walks back into the room with my mother’s phone and a bag from Best Buy. “I hope you don’t lose this one.”
    “Well, so do I.” She gets up to pour coffee into a travel mug. “How bad will the Grove be on a Saturday?”
    “Pretty bad,” Brad says, while configuring the phone with the tiny earpiece headset. “Can you wait until Monday? Considering your hatred of both shopping and other people . . . ”
    “I really don’t want to wait. Devan’s audition is first thing Monday, and I’d like to have her more settled before then. My coffee will keep me sane.”
    Brad laughs at that and hands her the phone. “Here you are, love. Devan, please steer her away from large crowds if you can.”
    I laugh like I’m part of their inside-jokes, but I probably just look a little crazy.
    My mother and I walk silently out to the garage to her car. She pulls out onto the winding road and then back to the busy street we were on yesterday.
    “Coffee before we attempt this?” she asks.
    “Don’t you already have coffee?”
    “Oh, please.” She gestures to her travel mug. “I’ll be done with this by the time the stoplight changes to green. Some might say I have a bit of a problem.”
    “Like caffeine addiction?”
    “Brad says there should be a twelve-step program.” She pulls over and parks by the curb off the busy street. I can’t wrap my brain around how many shops and restaurants and cars and people there are everywhere. “He has a point.”
    I walk with her down the block to a tiny, dimly lit coffee shop. Way more my mother’s style, I can tell, than some happy and bright coffee chain. And, to be fair, it smells amazing, and they make my mother’s coffee without her even having to order it (something with four shots of espresso and foam only, while I stick with something frosty and chocolaty).
    “So this is my list so far.” My mother takes a folded-up piece of paper out of her purse and hands it over to me. “You’re only allowed two vetoes.”
    Okay, this is the thing: I know that I don’t want my mother spending much money on me, especially after finding out about school tuition. But? I really really really like shopping.