The Boy Is Back by Meg Cabot (35)

Hey, buddy, where are you? Carly wants us to sit down and eat now.

Whoa, can you believe this speech of dad’s? The old man sure does love that microphone.

Reed, I can see you over there talking to your lady love. But you need to tear yourself away so we can eat. The girls are getting antsy. You know what Taylor is like when she’s hungry. Have some mercy, buddy.

Yo, dude, what happened? I just saw you run out of here with Becky.

I know you’re trying to get into her pants, but Carly was really hoping we could all sit down and eat together as a family. I think Dad was hoping so, as well.

So, not cool, especially on the one good day he’s had in a while.

Seriously, Reed, Rhonda just came up to me and said she thinks she told you something that maybe she shouldn’t have, and now she’s worried because you looked so upset.

But she won’t tell me what it was because she doesn’t want to upset me, too.

So now I’m worried. It’s starting to freak me out that you’re not texting me back. Where are you?

Just me, checking in. You better be getting laid, otherwise I can’t think of any other excuse for you being such a dick.

OK, so Trimble just called me and told me not to believe anything you say and that you’re a lying horse’s ass and always have been.

Apparently she thinks that you and I converse a lot more regularly than we actually do.

I did not let on that I hadn’t the slightest idea what she was talking about, and pretended I knew everything, and that I believed everything you had not, in fact, told me.

This enraged our fair sister so much that she hung up before I could find out what it is, exactly, that you discovered she’s done.

Anything that pisses off Trimble is fine by me. So carry on, my good man. I will use Trimble’s wroth with you to placate my seething wife, who hates your guts for not dining with us, but hates our sister more.

So my wife—not me—took it upon herself to go for a little moonlight drive just now, not to spy on you, I’m sure, because my fair wife would never do such a thing. She says it was to “check the ditches to make sure you weren’t lying dead in one.”

In any case, she has just returned to inform me that your rental car is parked in front of the house of one Beverly Flowers, and that she is convinced you are in the basement apartment of that house with one Rebecca Flowers.

She wishes to know if you intend to spend the night there, and if so, will you return in time for breakfast in the morning, as, it being Saturday, she is going to make blueberry pancakes.

She would also like you to know that she would be happy to make enough for your companion, Rebecca Flowers.

Now I’m going to shoot myself for having been forced to text all that.

Tell Carly yes, I’m at Becky’s.

Yes, I’m spending the night.

Yes to pancakes. I will force Becky to come too even though she says she’ll be too embarrassed.

We’re going to have a lot to talk about tomorrow.

You’ve just made my wife squeal with happiness. It’s been months—maybe years—since I’ve heard my wife squeal with happiness.

Thanks for coming back, bud.

I told you I would.