Zoey 101: All Or Nothing ☑

Chapter 22

Chase POV Continued

“Is Zoey okay?”

Mom shot Mr. Brooks a nervous glance. He stood up. “Yes, yes, she’s fine. I was just in the neighborhood….” He tried to grab the paper off the table nonchalantly, but it was so obvious what he was doing.

“What’s that?” I motioned at the paper in his hand.

“Oh, well …” They exchanged another nervous look. “I was asking your mother for her opinion on some cooking stuff I was going to get Zoey for her birthday.”

For some reason, I didn’t buy it. “Really? Can I see it?”

“Mr. Brooks was on his way out,” Mom said right as the coffee-maker went off. Mom never made coffee only for herself. She did it when we had company.

“Yes.” He excused himself. “I was taking a quick break from work. You know, Chase, I was hoping to surprise Zoey with this, so if you could not tell her I was here.”

I didn’t like deceiving Zoey, not when our relationship was in such a fragile place. But between Zoey’s behavior and our parents’ secretive meeting, I couldn’t help but think there was something going on that I wasn’t being told.

It was all very mysterious. And I wasn’t in the mood for mysterious.

In the next week, Mom and Mr. Brooks seemed to be talking on the phone a lot. Not that Mom told me it was Mr. Brooks. I had to sneak a look at her phone.

I figured Zoey might know what was going on. I headed over there the Saturday before school started. Normally, I’d just walk in, but since Zoey had been so uneasy around me lately, I knocked on the door.

“Oh, hey.” I could instantly tell that Zoey didn’t want to see me. She definitely knew what was going on. And I wasn’t going to leave until she came clean.

We walked into the kitchen, where she had all this dough and flour on the counter.

“I’m making pasta,” she said as she began working with the dough.

This was usually the part where she would invite me to stay for dinner. She always did that. But I hadn’t gotten one invitation since she got back. The only time we sat down for a meal was her first night home and during our Sunday night family dinner. The thought of having to sit around their dinner table the following evening made me uneasy. There were too many unanswered questions.

I decided to not dance around the subject. “Are you keeping something from me?”

Zoey stopped cold. I knew it.

“What are you talking about?” She threw some flour on the dough and turned around so I couldn’t see her face.

“I think there’s something going on with you. You’re doing that thing you do.”

She tried to play it off lightly. “Cook? Yep, this is what I do now, Chase. Call in the detectives!” She laughed, but it was self-conscious, almost calculated laughter. She wanted me to brush it all off and move on.

Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t going to do that.

Enough was enough.

“Come on, Zoey. I’m not an idiot. You’ve been distant. Our parents are talking to each other all the time. What would they have to talk about if it wasn’t one of us?”

“I don’t know. They’re friends — aren’t friends allowed to talk? Stop making it some conspiracy theory. Friends talk.”

“Yes, friends talk. But that’s not what you and I have been doing.” She ignored me and continued to roll out the dough. “Can you stop for a second, sit down, and talk to me? Please?” I moved a chair for her to sit down next to me.