Tuesday, October 27, G & T

Boris was playing too loudly for Michael to think, and he was sorely tempted to grab his violin and–

"Can I read it?"

He turned to see Mia watching Lilly scribble in her tiny journalist's notepad on the other side of the table.

He discreetly rolled his eyes.

Lilly was writing a 'book'. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

His sister may have been smart, but focused she was not – the other day it was all about some tiny family-run store about to be closed down by 'the man;' today it was all about her book and how it was going to "open up the average American's eyes to the disgusting truth."

"No," Lilly practically growled back at Mia.

Michael frowned as he went back to his book of lyrics that he'd been compiling, hating the way he couldn't really step in for Mia when he wanted to.

"Can I read just one page?"

Michael smiled behind his hand as he looked back up at Mia and his sister – this is going to be good…

Lilly was turning purple. "No."

"Just one sentence?"

"No."

Mia opened her mouth again and Lilly looked like she was going to snap her No. 2 pencil.

Michael stepped in. "She wouldn't let me read it either."

Mia's grey eyes swung over to him and he resisted the all-too-familiar pleasant shiver that wanted to shimmy up his spine.

"Really? Even though you offered to publish it on Crackhead?"

He nodded, thinking back to their quick exchange when Mia had first sat down and told him what had happened at lunch.

In return, he had told her about overhearing Lilly's conversation with Boris and how, afterward, he had offered to give his sister the platform she obviously needed. Lilly had proceeded to join them then at the table and let Mia know, in no uncertain terms, that Michael's e-zine wasn't good enough for her writing.

Mia suddenly turned back to Lilly. "Am I in it? Your book? Am I in it?"

Lilly's face, which had calmed from its previous shade of purple, contorted and her mouth opened wide for what Michael knew was going to be a yell.

"If people don't stop bothering me about my book, I'm going to fling myself off the top of the school water tower!"

Mrs Hill sent a glare to their table that clearly warned them they were on thin enough ice already, and that they didn't want her coming along to crack it.

Michael went back to his lyrics, casually eyeing Mia's put-out frown from the corner of his eye.

She immediately buried her nose in her journal.

He resisted a smile.