Read Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1) for Free Online Page B

of
her pocket to check the screen. “It’s Henrik. I’ll be right
back.”
    “Ooh, Henrik!” Charlotte teased. Brynn turned
and beamed at us as she ducked out of the kitchen.
    “He’s cute,” I drawled, as I poured some
sauce into a small pan and left it covered on the stove to
simmer.
    “He’s gorge,” Heather chimed in. “Just
friends, sure.”
    “Wonder how long that’ll last.” Charlotte
grinned.
    “Probably not as long as she thinks.” I
transferred the chicken to a baking dish, covered it with the
remaining tomato sauce, and added a generous amount of cheese
across the top before sticking the entire thing in the oven. “Time
to parmesan. About four more minutes on the noodles.”
    “Four minutes?” Brynn poked her head into the
kitchen. “Great. Be right back.” She ran down the hallway and
opened the front door, slamming it shut behind her.
    “What the…?” Heather walked to the window and
peeked outside. “Mmm-hmm.”
    Charlotte and I crossed to her side and poked
our heads around the curtain. Outside, Henrik stood next to a jeep.
I craned my neck to see if anyone else was in the car, and tried to
ignore the disappointment that settled over me when I saw Tyr
wasn’t with him. Instead, I watched as Henrik handed Brynn a
package. She beamed up at him.
    “Aw. He brought her a present!”
    “Wonder what it is. Oh. Move.” Heather pushed
us back to the table as Henrik turned toward the window. He didn’t
need to see three curious faces pressed against the glass. We could
interrogate Brynn when she came inside.
    “Act natural,” Charlotte hissed. She and
Heather pulled out chairs and feigned nonchalance while I gave the
noodles one final stir. By the time the front door clicked open,
our giggles were somewhat under control.
    “I saw you guys.” Brynn rolled her eyes as
she came into the kitchen.
    “Us?” Charlotte batted her eyelashes. “We
don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Subtle,” Brynn deadpanned. She grabbed
something off the counter and slipped it into her pocket. I was too
focused on not burning myself on the noodles to see what it
was.
    “Serving up in a couple minutes, ladies,” I
announced.
    “Great.” Brynn raced up the stairs while I
stirred the remaining pasta sauce. By the time I’d plated the pasta
and the chicken on two big platters for the table, Brynn was back
in the kitchen. She leaned over the counter and held up my phone.
“Looks like you missed a call, Mia. Who’s Jason?”
    “My brother. I’ll call him later. Go sit
down.” I shooed her to the table.
    She picked up her water glass. “I’m starving.
Can I help dish up?”
    “Nope. It’s family style.” I carried the
dishes to the table and winked at my roommates. “Unless you want to
tell us what Henrik gave you.”
    “Uh, nothing.”
    Knowing prevarication when I saw it, I raised
my cup to divert the attention off Brynn. “To college life. And to
dinners with new friends.”
    “Hear, hear,” Charlotte agreed.
    “ Skål, ” Brynn chimed in. “Cheers.”
    We clinked our glasses together. It wasn’t
the Sunday night dinner I was used to—the one with Mama’s pot
roast, Grandpa’s bad jokes, and Jason and me fork-fighting over the
last slice of Meemaw’s mud pie. But this could be a different kind
of family, and, I hoped, the start of a new kind of tradition.
After all, Jason always said change was the first rung on the
ladder of growth. And so far, my brother hadn’t steered me
wrong.
    I winked at Brynn and brought my glass to my
lips. “ Skål .”
     
    ****
     
    At zero-dark-thirty on Monday morning, I
laced up my running shoes and stepped outside. The air smelled
fresh and crisp, like the tang of a freshly picked Macintosh. It
was still early enough in the year that there was a sliver of light
at this hour, but it wouldn’t be long before my morning jogs
required streetlights for illumination.
    At the edge of our porch, I paused. The
prudent thing to do would be to jog