Bury the Lead by Mischa Thrace

Author:Mischa Thrace
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult, teens, mystery, bullying, disabled & disability, multicultural & diverse, asexuality
Publisher: BHC Press
Published: 2021-03-10T16:00:00+00:00

I spend the weekend sending increasingly exasperated messages to Kylie with no response. I don’t even get the courtesy of the bouncing dots to show she’s even considering replying.

I don’t have time to dwell on it though, because Cassidy is in the midst of a meltdown about what to wear for her date with Bryce. I forgive her for acting like it’s more important than a murder investigation, because I’ve made damn sure she doesn’t know anything about it. Far as I’m concerned, she can read about it on the Monitor once it’s solved. She has other things to focus on.

Like whether the navy sweater with the shoulder cutouts is a better choice than a cute tee and cardigan.

“I vote cardigan,” I say.

“Yeah, but you don’t have a sexy bone in your body. I have many sexy bones. Like literally all of them.” She chucks the cardigan on the bed. “I think the sweater.”

“Then go with the sweater. But there will be no sexy bones or boning of any kind. This is only the first proper date, remember?”

“Barn dates totally count.”

I hang the cardigan back in her closet. “No, barn dates are supervised by way too many middle-aged women to count.”

“You’re a fun-stealer.” She pulls the sweater over her head and angles herself in front of the mirror.

“It’s my sacred right as older sister.”

“We’ve talked about it, you know.” Her cheeks flush in a way that makes makeup completely unnecessary.

“Already?” This is so not my division. “Do we need to have the talk?”

“You don’t even want to have the sex,” she says with a wicked grin. “I don’t think you want to be responsible for the talk either.”

“Yeah, not really, but I also don’t want a pregnant sister.”

“I’m not stupid. Plus, all I have to do is email my doctor, and she’ll write me a prescription for the pill. You’ll just have to take me to pick it up, not Mom.”

“Yeah, how ’bout no? Getting pregnant isn’t the only thing that can happen, you know.”

She rolls her eyes. “He’d use a condom too.”

I cover my ears with both hands in mock horror. “La, la, la. I don’t want to hear this. Shit, Cass. Look. It’s the first real date. No sexy times yet. Promise me.”

“Define sexy times.”

“Times where sex takes place.”

“Fine.” She sifts through her lipstick drawer and settles on a berry shade that claims to be kiss-proof. “No promises on kissy times though.”

“Deal.” I don’t begrudge her and her raging hormones, but I don’t want her jumping into anything too serious too soon. Even though I’m not driven by such urges, I’m careful to remember that most other people are different. That doesn’t mean I get it though. Wanting sex is like wanting a scallop-and-peanut butter sandwich—utterly incomprehensible, but maybe something certain people are into. And if it’s my sister craving scallops and peanut butter, I want to make sure she’s fully prepared for it.

Cassidy smacks her lips at her reflection and spins around. “Good?”

“Good,” I confirm. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Dinner.

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