Three seconds after he stepped out of the room, I muttered, “Or you could try not getting drunk at the concert and avoiding a hangover. Or teaching through a hangover.”
My words went unheard, though. And really, I wouldn’t have wanted Roger, or anyone else, to hear them.
I went back to my grading with a shake of my head. I really needed to grow a backbone. I needed to learn to say no to people. I had courage in me somewhere. I had to summon that up and stand up for myself sometimes. Dad had always said that, despite what the media said, alphas liked omegas with a little hutzpah.
I was halfway through my third worksheet when there was a knock on my classroom door again.
“Hey, Linus.”
I snapped my head up with a scowl, intending to demand “What now?” from whoever had come through the door. Instead of one of my fellow teachers come to dump more work on me, I was surprised by the sight of Lucas striding into the room.
“Lucas! What are you doing here? How did you even get in?”
My wily brother broke into one of his mischievous grins as he sauntered over to sit on the side of my desk. “Your school’s security leaves something to be desired. Although Mrs. Denholm is a peach.”
I stared flatly up at Lucas. “You told her you were me, didn’t you.”
Lucas’s grin widened. “She was a little surprised at how I was dressed, and she thought you were already in your classroom. I came up with a good excuse.”
Lucas was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. Chances were he’d ridden his motorcycle over to the school. I generally dressed in teacher clothes, which involved a sweater with seals on it today, and I drove an ordinary, affordable car that I’d bought used because it was efficient and practical.
“You can’t just go around impersonating me, especially not at my workplace,” I scolded Lucas.
“I won’t do it again,” Lucas lied. “I needed to get in to see you immediately.”
I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “What now?”
Lucas slipped off the desk and faced me like a used car salesman. “I just had the most amazing opportunity fall in my lap. It’s easy money.”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “What now? Is this another pyramid scheme?”
“No, I’m done with those,” Lucas said. “This is much better. It’s—” He hesitated for a second, pressing his lips shut, like he was trying to think of the easiest way to sell me on his latest harebrained scheme. “It’s merchandizing,” he finally said.
“Merchandizing?” I arched one eyebrow.
“Well, that’s not really the best description.” I stared flatly at him until he went on. “I have some friends who are trying to sell some stuff on one of those online sites. They need a place to store it for a while. So I said they could use the garage at Dad and Papa’s beach house.”
“Did you ask Dad and Papa about this?” I asked, even less enthusiastic about Lucas’s latest plan than I thought I’d be.
“Yeah, and they said it’s fine,” Lucas insisted. He might have been lying.
He was probably lying.
Sometimes it was hard to tell with Lucas. And our family’s beach house, which was about thirty miles south of Barrington, where the coast was a little bit rocky and where most of the properties had been sold off in big, private chunks a few generations ago, wasn’t used all that often these days.
“So what do you want me to do?” I asked. “Drive down to the beach house and get it all cleaned up for you?”
“No, I did that the other day,” Lucas said, waving his hand like he was brushing away cobwebs. “What I need you to do is attend a, um, a job interview for me.”
My already flat look turned downright horizontal. “You want me to go to a job interview for you?”
“Yeah,” Lucas said, brightening. A little too much. There was something almost wicked in his expression.
I sighed. “This isn’t another practical joke, is it?” I asked.
“No! No, what makes you think that?” Lucas pretended innocence.
“Only the fact that you still think it’s funny to play practical jokes on me, even though we aren’t kids anymore.”
