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We had gotten back to the beach house and the aroma of Mexican food had made its way into my nose. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, to appreciate its heavenly scent. The first day of summer is when April always cooks a big Mexican feast. Burritos, enchiladas, chimichangas, rice, tacos, Mexican cornbread, quesadillas, tortilla soup, salsa, guacamole, and my favorite, homemade tortilla chips.

When we got into the kitchen, we say April stirring something in a big, tall pot. Carson instantly went over and started helping her.

"So how was our trip?" April asked, moving away from her pot and looking from me to Brice. She had on her white apron that said, What part of "It's not ready" do you not understand?

It was always so funny because Brice and Carson used to do that to her all of the time. They would ask, and then ask a minute later, and so on and so forth.

"Good," Brice replied bluntly. I noticed he did not dare to bring in the bottle of beer he had. I wondered if April even knows about him drinking.

"That's it?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Give me some details, anything interesting?"

"We just went for ice cream," Brice snapped at her. I was taken aback by his sudden change in attitude, and wonder how much he had changed in a year.

"Well," Carson started to say, making everyone's attention focus on him. "Lauren was checking out a guy sitting with his girlfriend at the store."

"I was not!" I shot back at him. How did he even notice that? "And it could have a been a sister."

"Yeah, sure," he replied, chopping something with a big knife. I saw the corners of his mouth twitch.

"See Brice," April said, turning towards him. "Something else happened."

Leave it up to Carson to lighten up the mood. That was something he was very good at, and he always did it in a jokingly way.

"That we did not need to share," I mumble, loud enough for Carson to hear.

"Whoops," he replies. "My bad."

"I'll be in my room," Brice tells us, walking towards the stairs and disappearing in a matter of seconds. The room falls silent, except for the pot that is sizzling.

I clear my throat before asking, "Do you need any help?"

"Oh no," April responds, turning towards me. "You just go enjoy yourself somewhere."

"Alright," I replied, making my way upstairs and walking into my room. My room was all the way at the end of the hallway, with Carson's across from mine, and Brice's next to mine. When we were younger, Carson and I would lay on the ground in the doorway of both of our rooms and talk. Sometimes, when Brice would tell us to shut up and go to sleep, I would go in his room and lay on his bed and we would talk.

I got into my room, closing the door behind me, and flopped down onto the bed. My suitcase was sitting on the floor near the closet, and I realized that either Brice or Carson put it there when my mom and I arrived.

The sound of music was barely audible, but since it was so silent up here, I could hear it better. My guess was that it was coming from Brice's room, but then I heard someone laughing downstairs. Since there was nothing interesting going on upstairs, I made my way back down, passing Brice's room behind a closed door.

"You should go on The Voice!" April exclaimed, letting out a laugh and clapping her hands together. The music got louder the closer I got to the kitchen.

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