Read Probable Impossibilities Page 9


  Chapter 7

  Friday morning at last! I slid my backpack over one arm and bounded down the stairs. There was time to grab a soda and chips on the way out.

  I slid to a stop in the kitchen doorway. Filled chairs surrounded the usually empty table. Mom, Dad, Nate and Desiree all turned to look at me. What was Desiree doing here at 7:00 in the morning?

  My skin tingled with dread. They were all smiling. A bad sign this early in the day. Most of them shouldn't even be awake yet.

  Dad waved me in. “We've been waiting for you, Cody. Have a seat.”

  I cautiously entered the room and perched on the edge of my chair, ready to flee. Nate's eyes danced with a smugness born of hidden information. A hint of something bad to follow.

  Dad cleared his throat. “Now that we're all here, I can make my announcement.” His gaze swept over each of us as he savored the moment. “I got the job at the school! I start Monday.”

  This statement was met with a deafening cheer from the others. I sat stunned. The room wavered around me.

  Desiree rose to her feet like a ballerina taking center stage. Her bracelet tinkled softly on her delicate wrist as she swept up a wineglass half filled with red liquid. Two stray wisps of hair had escaped her French braid to strategically accent her dark eyes.

  I looked around the table. Everyone was holding a wineglass.

  “It's a toast, kid. Hoist the crystal,” Nate muttered from the corner of his mouth.

  Alcohol with my Cheerios? Numbly I picked up the glass.

  With her silky film voice Desiree made her toast. “Here's to the one charged with preserving the facilities where the future of the world begins with the education of the young.”

  Dad was staring at me. I rallied and gave him a weak smile. The clinking glasses were more like the mournful warning of a lonely buoy in the fog signaling my impending doom.

  My thoughts focused on my first glass of wine. A fruit and herb smell hid any hint of alcohol. The foamy liquid coated my tongue and I struggled not to spit it out. Wine was supposed to get better as it spoiled. I looked into my glass and ran my tongue over my teeth trying to get rid of the coating.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  Des smiled. “A special blend of island fruits with a trace of delicate herbs to bring out the natural essence. All the flavor without any alcohol to dull the taste sensation. Do you like it?”

  “Yuc, Yu, Yes,” I stammered.

  Her smile was dazzling, but my tongue still felt fuzzy.