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ִ ࣪𖤐
I LOVE BLUEBERRY MUFFINS. They were one of the best things in the world, so I always knew when they were around. And I was notorious for getting upset when there wouldn't be any, so it became necessary for everyone to always buy one and never eat it.
I found myself walking downstairs and over to the kitchen, following the muffin aroma, but I stopped myself when I saw people at the sink. I froze, and turned around slowly. As I was walking away, someone said, "Hey!" I turned around to see someone about my age sitting at the counter. "Are you a friend of the Fisher's?"
"Hi, sorry, yeah. I'm Stella, or, uh, Estella Baker." I walked further into the kitchen, smiling slightly. "I just smelled muffins."
"Oh, you want one?" The stranger asked.
"Yeah, sure."
Before I could take one, the blonde woman at the sink said, "Uh, those are for the open house." Oh. This was definitely Aunt Julia. "Good morning, Estella."
The back door opened, and Jere's voice was heard. "Mm, did somebody get muffins?" His voice trailed off as he spotted who was here.
"Hey, Jeremiah." The person sitting said kindly, and Jere uttered a small greeting. "Conrad."
"Skye." Conrad's eyes flickered to mine for a second before he looked at Jere. "You didn't tell me she was here, too."
"It's they. Not she." Skye corrected. "God, I guess it's been like a decade since I saw you guys. Um, how are you doing since your mom."
"It's been rough," Jere crossed his arms.
Conrad stared at Skye, his expression laced with anger. It would be stupid to say he looked really attractive right now, right? Because he was also very shirtless. Anyways—
"Rougher now that our aunt's stealing our house," Conrad tilted his head.
"I'm not stealing anything, Conrad." Julia chimed in. "Like it or not, I get to choose what happens to this house and I chose to put it on the market." I swallow the lump in my throat as she speaks, "You boys should get on the road. Beat the traffic back to Boston."
"There's no chance. We're staying for the open house." Conrad replies smoothly.
"Uh, no, no, no. I can't have a bunch of teenagers chasing everybody away. Call your father, because this isn't an Aunt Julia problem."
Conrad stepped forward, "Except it is." He placed his hands on the counter and leaned in, standing next to me. "Because you are the problem."
"I don't have time for this." She muttered, and left the kitchen quickly.
I sighed, stepping back a bit and looking at Conrad. "She's still family, Conrad."
