It all started with a game

Chapter 21.1

I stared at my potential death, trying to figure out how in the world my mother could have switched the plates up, especially after she specifically said she cooked one bowl separately and without tomatoes. I dropped the spoon, letting it clatter against the bowl, splashes of broth going everywhere. My mind ran blank with one thought cycling on a loop. "I'll be right back," I excused myself from the table, nearly tripling on my own chair as I tried to stand up.

My mother yelled complaints after me but I was no longer listening, bending my book back and forth in a rocking motion, trying to calm my pulse. I rushed into my room, grabbing a random box from beneath the bed and tearing through it. I have to find it.

There was a soft knock on the door. I yelled an automated reply. "I'll be down in a minute." I have to find it.

"What are you looking for?" Ryder questioned.

"My epipen."

He cursed, dropping down to the floor beside me and helping me look. "Did you ingest some of it?" He frantically dug through a box.

I shook my head. "No, but just in case." In case I'm not paying attention and my mother forgets again. Death by tomato seems like a very sad way to go out.

Ryder's motions slowed from their frantic state. "We'll find it," he reassured me.

Another two knocks on my door and suddenly my brothers were on the case as well, the two of them rummaging through Klaus's room, the only other place it could be if not in mine. I found the last box that I'd avoided putting away—I set up my bookshelves and blankets and called it a day, sentencing the rest of my boxes to a lifetime in the closet—immediately ransacking it. "I found it!" I cheered, holding up the unfilled epipen. I knew it didn't have anything in it, but at least now I could leave it by the door and get it refilled in the morning. Let's just hope I didn't die before then.

The four of us made our way back downstairs, knowing my mother was about to condemn us to a slow and painful death for skipping a good ten minutes of dinner. She plastered on a smile. "There you three are. Reginald, I thought we were going to have another situation like this morning."

I cut her feud off short, not letting her take shots at him, "Ryder."

"Right, Ryder."

Kavinski decided now was a good time to pitch in. "You could always call him Finnick, if it's easier for you to remember." Kavinski shot Ryder a disgusting smirk.

I might have been the one people needed to worry about killing Kavinski, the thought was sounding real appealing right about now. "His name is Ryder," I practically growled, knowing Ryder hated to be called Finnick. I was the only one who got to call him that. Only me, and sometimes Alexia but I'd share with her, Kavinski and my mother, I would not.

"I cleaned up your soups since you all clearly weren't interested in it," she made herself out to be the victim. "I'll serve you guys your plates in a second."

She served her boyfriend and his nephew first, then the three of us, and served Ryder last. He didn't seem to mind, meanwhile I was contemplating ways to make this dinner a living nightmare for her, the only thing keeping me from doing it being Ryder's hand resting on my leg. His silent way of telling me not to kill anyone

The entire dinner consisted of my mother taking shots at me and Kavinski taking shots at Ryder. You would have thought the two of us had a red 'A' printed across our chest from the way we were being treated. I figured the end of dinner would signal the end of this whole night but apparently my mother had other plans. "Everybody, to the living room," she took Elijah's hand. "It's time for a movie."