Chapter 1 Noah part 3

I’m never going to get used to the idea,” I said, looking away from her

face to the road.

My mother sighed again, and I wished the conversation would just end—

I didn’t want to go on talking.

“I get that you’re going to miss Dan and all your friends, Noah, but look

on the bright side—you’re going to have a brother!” she exclaimed.

I turned to her with a weary look.

“Please don’t try to sell this like something it’s not.”

“You’re going to love him, though. Nick is a sweetheart,” she told me,

smiling as she gazed down the highway. “He’s mature, responsible, and he’s

probably dying to introduce you to all his pals. Every time I’ve been there

and he’s around, he’s stayed in his room studying or reading a book. You

might even have the same tastes.”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure he’s crazy about Jane Austen.” I rolled my eyes.

“How old is he again?” I knew, of course; all my mother had talked about

for months was him and Will. It was ironic that for some reason Nick had

never managed to find a hole in his schedule to introduce himself to me.

Moving in with a new family before I’d even met all the members of it just

kind of summed up how crazy this all was.

“He’s a little older than you, but you’re more mature than most girls your

age. You’ll get along great.”

Now she was kissing up to me. Mature. I still wasn’t sure whether that

word defined me, and I doubted a guy who was nearly twenty-two would

really feel like showing me the city or letting me meet his friends. If I even

wanted to, which was a whole different question.

“We’re here,” my mother announced.

I looked at the tall palm trees and the streets between the monumental

mansions. Each house took up at least half a block. Some were English Or Victoria style; lots of others were modern with glass walls and huge yards.

I started to get scared as we continued up the road and the houses got bigger

and bigger.

At last we reached a set of immense gates, ten feet high, and when my

mother pulled a small device out of the glove box and pushed the button,

they started to open. She put the car back in gear, and we went down a hill

surrounded by gardens and tall pines that smelled pleasantly of summer and

sea.

The house isn’t as high up as the others in the development, which

means we have the best views of the beach,” she remarked with a big smile.

I looked over at her, and it was as if I didn’t even know her. Did she not

realize what was surrounding us? Could she not see that it was all just too

much?

I didn’t have time to formulate the other questions I had aloud because

we reached the house and the only thing I could think to say was “Oh my

God!”

It was white with a sand-colored roof way up high. It had three stories at

least, but it was hard to tell with all those balconies, windows, and

everything else. In front of us was an impressive porch with the lights on—

it was after seven—and that gave the place a fairy-tale aspect. The sun

would go down soon, and the sky was filled with colors that marked a sharp

contrast to the immaculate appearance of the place.

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