Wicked Games (Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries Book 3) by Gemma Halliday (books for students to read TXT) 📕

Raley cleared his throat. "This meat loaf is great." He picked at it with a fork in a way that totally contradicted the statement.

"Thank you, David." Mom smiled at the compliment.

I cut into mine, giving it my full attention in an effort not to make eye contact with anyone else. I could see bits of onion, celery, and some chickpeas. There were green flecks of some herb, but I tried not to identify too much more, lest it give me more reasons not to want to eat it. I took a tentative bite. There were enough spices to mask the veggies and make it palatable. Kind of.

"Chase, how do you like working on the school paper?" Mom asked. Her tone was pleasant, though I could tell the SMother had the same interrogation agenda as Raley. Even if hers was slightly more subtle.

"It's a lot of work, but it's satisfying."

"And being editor will probably look great on your college applications." Mom shot me a meaningful look. "You need things like that to stand out these days."

"We went over this in the living room already," I told her. "He's applying to be a slug."

Mom gave me a blank look.

"The UCSC mascot?" I explained.

I thought I heard Chase smirk next to me again, but it might have just been an involuntary reaction to tasting the not-mac and not-cheese.

"It takes some pretty good grades to get in there as a freshman," Raley said. "How are your grades, Chase?"

I softly groaned, but no one seemed to notice.

"They're good. Could be better, but I think my GPA is high enough to be competitive."

"How about your SAT scores?" Mom asked.

"Mom," I hissed again.

She mouthed a What? at me.

"They're fine. Not the highest, but not the lowest either," Chase answered.

"Did you have a tutor?" Mom asked. "I told Hart, I think she needs an SAT tutor."

"I don't need an SAT tutor," I gritted out.

"Sam has one," Mom said, turning to Raley. "Sam's applying to Stanford."

Raley nodded. "And where's Hartley looking at?"

All three pairs of eyes went my way.

"I-I don't know yet," I stammered. "But I have plenty of time to think about that, right?"

All three pairs of eyebrows hunkered down in looks that were equal parts pity and concern.

Chase's included.

"You should really start thinking about that soon," he said.

I shot him a glare. Whose side was he on?

"Any summer plans, Chase?" Mom asked, munching happily, oblivious to the humiliating effects of her prying.

Chase nodded. "Actually Hartley and I just applied for internships."

I choked on a chickpea.

"You did?" Mom perked up like someone had told her I'd just won the lottery. "Where?"

"At Pea—ow!"

I kicked Chase under the table.

"Just some little software company," I said quickly. I shot Chase a looked that I hoped said to zip it. If Mom knew I'd been anywhere near the company the murdered guy had worked at, I could forget college because I'd be grounded until I was thirty.

He frowned, rubbing his shin.

"Software?" Mom said, perking up so much she was about to hover out of her chair. "Oh, Hart, I didn't know you were interested in coding?"

"Lots of people applied. I doubt I'll get it." In fact I was 100% certain I wouldn't get it since I'd all but called the boss a murderer that afternoon.

I snuck a peek at Raley. He was giving me a hard stare like he knew something was up.

I clamped my lips shut, feigning interest in my meal lest I crack under his gaze.

"Well, I'm sure we can find some other software companies looking for interns. In fact, I'll ask at work tomorrow," Mom said.

Great. Now the SMother was on the summer job quest.

I took a deep breath, trying not to inhale the scents of my meal, and prayed this dinner ended soon.

"Well, Chase," Mom said, turning her eyes to him again, "I'm just so glad you could make it tonight. It's really nice to get to know Hartley's boyfriend better."

"Mom!" Clearly my powers of prayer needed some work.

She tuned those faux innocent eyes on me and again mouthed what?.

I narrowed my eyes at her. She knew darn well what.

However, I noticed in all our eye blinking and narrowing that Chase hadn't said anything.

Like, nothing to refute his status as boyfriend to my mom.

I snuck a glance at him from under my hair. But if he was shocked or offended by the moniker, he didn't show it. Just moving food around his plate and pretending to eat like the rest of us.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

He turned a pair of big brown eyes my way. Then he smirked and shrugged. "I've been called worse things," he whispered.

I felt my heart speed up and turned my attention back to my meal to cover the goofy grin on my face.

*   *   *

We finally finished eating, and the guys went back into the living room. I volunteered to help Mom clean up in the kitchen. Which was odd enough that she quirked that eyebrow at me, but at least she didn't shoo me out to play hostess again. I heard the TV go on, and was finally able to lower my shoulders from my earlobes and relax my body some as I washed dishes.

"He's nice," Mom whispered as she dried and set her china to the side.

I mumbled a "Hmm" and continued washing. I had zero intention of discussing Chase with her. Ever.

Mom took the hint and didn't say anything else. She put the china up in the cupboard above the fridge and set about making coffee and preparing for dessert.

One more round to go, and then I could finally be done with this torture. As the coffeemaker did its thing, I washed