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your mustache.”
    â€œShut up!” I covered my upper lip and pushed him with my free hand.
    Dad took both our schedules, glanced at them, and swapped them. “Sorry about that. Now, everyone get moving. It’s”—he glanced at his watch—“seven ten and none of you have even gone to the bathroom yet!”
    â€œEvacuated,” Nick corrected Dad.
    Dad fixed him with a stare.
    â€œAnd I’m gone,” said Nick, hurrying away.
    â€œAlex, use my bathroom,” said Dad. “Parker, the guest bathroom.” Dad headed for the stairs. “Everyone needs to be dressed and at the breakfast table in twenty minutes.”
    â€œFor a guy who sometimes stirs his coffee with a pen, Dad’s irritatingly together this morning,” grumbled Parker.
    I smiled but didn’t answer. Now that I was waking up, I kind of liked the extra attention from Dad. And the fact that his suspenders were actually holding up pants this time, and not pajamas, was a good sign.
    Since I never took long in the shower and I didn’t wear makeup, I whipped in and out of the bathroom, threwon some jeans and a T-shirt, and headed downstairs.
    Dad applauded when he saw me. “First one for breakfast, with five minutes to spare!”
    I bowed at the waist. “Nick’s right behind me, but I think Parker’s still in the shower. He probably won’t be down until after you leave for work.”
    Most mornings Dad waited until he saw us downstairs at breakfast before he left the house. The occasional exceptions were for Parker’s epic hair battles or when Nick forgot his homework and bribed Parker to do it. Yesterday had been different because of our Champs surveys, but I expected Dad wouldn’t make that a habit.
    â€œI’m sure your brother will be down very soon,” said Dad, flipping through the paper. “Mainly because I turned off the water heater.”
    A moment later, we could hear Parker shrieking. I smirked at Dad, who hid a smile behind a sip of coffee.
    Nick strolled into the kitchen, wincing. “Parker can really hit those high notes. You turned off the hot water?”
    â€œI did,” said Dad.
    Nick shook his head. “You know that’s not going to speed up his styling process. He’ll probably move even slower just to make you mad.”
    Dad looked unconcerned. “Parker loves school too much to miss it.”
    And he was right. Fifteen minutes later, when Nick and I were finishing breakfast, Parker stomped downstairs, fluffy hair and all.
    â€œThat … was cruel,” he growled at Dad, before continuing his march of gloom to the refrigerator.
    â€œBut you had plenty of time to do your hair,” I pointed out.
    Parker wheeled around to glare at me. “ What are you talking about? My hair is a nightmare!”
    I wrinkled my forehead. “It looks the same as always.”
    â€œUh, nooo. It’s an inch shorter because I didn’t have time to volumize!”
    Everyone at the table watched him quietly. After a pause, Nick and I glanced at each other.
    Then we burst out laughing.
    â€œIt’s not funny!” roared Parker.
    â€œDude, please,” Nick sputtered. “Tell me you don’t measure your hair every day.”
    â€œIt’s no weirder than you hitting on girls,” said Parker, his face reddening. “Or Alex keeping pennies that she finds on the ground. Even the ones in public restrooms!”
    â€œYeah.” Nick turned on me. “That’s gross!”
    â€œThey’re good luck!” I argued.
    â€œNot if you get E. coli and die.”
    â€œAll right, that’s enough,” said Dad. “You’re each very special and I don’t want you to stop being who you are.” Hecleared his throat. “Although, Alex, you should probably let the housekeeper sanitize those pennies.”
    â€œFine,” I said, carrying my dishes to the sink.
    Emily’s head popped