#brooks mueller

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Rose pulled her phone out checking the time. “Where are you?” she typed sending the same message she had sent a few minutes before as if it would produce a different result then the first unanswered message had garnered.

A few minutes later she pushed through the dorm doors tired of waiting. Pulling her jacket close, feeling the chill fall air penetrate her light jacket. “There you are,” she called as Brooks came hurrying up the sidewalk towards her.

“Sorry,” he murmured, coming to a stop a couple of feet from where Rose stood in front of the dorm door. 

“We were supposed to have left twenty minutes ago,” Rose said. 

“I told you I wasn’t going,” Brooks said.

“No you didn’t,”

“Yes I did,” Brooks turned towards Atlas who had walked with him to his dorm. “I have to study for a test.”

“I already told our dad’s that we were going home this weekend,” Rose said. “They’re expecting us.”

“Then go home,” Brooks said “I need to study.”

Rose eyed Atlas standing off to the side. “You just want to spend time with him.”

Brooks shoved his hands into his pockets, pressing his lips together into a thin line.

“That’s it isn’t it,” Rose said stepping closer “You’d rather spend time with him than go home.”

Atlas shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “I’m going to go,” he said, turning to Brooks “if you want to talk later you have my number.”

Brooks looked like he wanted to ask him to stay but all he did was nod and watch him walk away.

“You better hurry,” Rose said. To her shock and utter dismay Brooks turned and ran after Atlas. “What the …” 

Atlas stopped, hearing rapid footsteps coming up behind him. Turning, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw it was Brooks running to catch up to him. “I don’t think she likes me,” he said, nodding in the direction of Brooks’ older sister.

Brooks shrugged, “she doesn’t listen.”

“Maybe…” Atlas shook his head, looking away. 

“What?”

Turning to face Brooks he said “it’s not my place to tell you what to do. I’m just your tutor.”

“Right,” Brooks said, “and here I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” Atlas said and just for a moment the idea popped into his head that maybe he wanted a little more. It was a strange and foreign idea and one he wasn’t ready to face. “When was the last time you were home?”

Blinking Brooks frowned “what difference does that make? We had plans.”

“To study,” Atlas reminded him “for a test you’re ready for.”

“So you think I should go home…”

Reaching out, Atlas touched Brooks hand lightly “I think you should do what you want.”

“I haven’t been home since I got here,” he said looking back at his sister. “I should probably go.”

“Alright,” Atlas said, taking a couple of steps back “then I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yeah sure,” Brooks agreed. “Will you go home for the weekend?”

Checking the time Atlas shook his head “my sister has already left. So I guess I’ll be here.”

Looking over his shoulder Brooks suggested “maybe you could ride with us.”

“I don’t know,” Atlas said “you’re already late and I still have to pack.”

“You haven’t been home since school started,” Brooks pointed out “and you could be packed by the time we’re ready to go.”

“What about_”

“Don’t worry about her,” Brooks said “I’ll tell her. Now go. We’re in a hurry.”

“I’m going,” he said, running down the sidewalk towards his dormitory.

Brooks turned and jogged up to his sister. “We’re giving Atlas a ride,” he said as he entered the dorm.

“Oh no we’re not,” she said, following him inside. 

“Then I’m not going,” he said.

“Fine,” she said. “But he better be ready to go by the time we get there.”

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Chapter 7 – Reluctant Volunteer

Rose hummed to herself as she pulled items from her closet. She hadn’t planned on organizing her closet today but she needed to make room fo

Rose is motivated to donate to the local homeless shelter but are her motives for the right reasons? Or is she only doing it to see the boy she ran into at the church again? Find out in the next chapter of The Art of Being Yourself that's available on my WP Blog if you want to read it now. Otherwise it'll be added to the queue and posted later.

Grant Gray and Kade Mueller were made by @legendofsim

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Rose swept through the doors of the by now familiar homeless shelter. A few of the usual visitors waved at her but the workers setting up for the dinner rush ignored her or grunted when she said hi as she passed them. “What’s wrong with everyone?” she muttered as she stepped into the kitchen. 

“Where were you?” A cold but familiar voice demanded.

Turning towards the sink she giggled “I knew you wouldn’t like having to wash dishes anymore than me.”

“Where the hell were you? You knew we were short two people today and you promised you’d be here.”

“Excuse me for having a life,” she snapped, taking a step backwards.

He rinsed down the sink area before wiping his hands dry on the front of his jeans. “I should have known better than to rely on a spoiled little princess to keep her promise.”

“I wish people would stop calling me a spoiled little princess,” she whined “I have problems too.”

“Yeah right,” Fox rolled his eyes moving towards the counter to start on prep work for the dinner rush. 

“I do,” she stomped her foot. “My parents told me I had to get a job. Can you imagine…”

Fox let out a loud guffaw causing several volunteers to turn and stare. “That’s your problem? You have to get a job!.”

“Well yeah,” she said, unsure why he was looking at her in such confusion. “I know that doesn’t sound like much to you since all  you do is volunteer but I’m in the middle of planning my parent’s anniversary party. Where they think I’m going to find the time to find a job and do that I have no idea.”

“You think all I do is volunteer,” Fox’s voice was low and gruff.

“Well,” she shrugged, “you’re always here. I just assumed…” The angry glint in his usually amused eyes had her regretting all the assumptions she had made about him. 

“I’ll have you know I work a full time job besides volunteering my time here,” he said “most of the volunteers here do. We’re not all made of money. We have to work in order to pay the bills.”

“But you’re parents…” she didn’t finish her sentence. 

“What about my parents,” he demanded. 

Taking a deep breath she said “well everyone knows they have money. Why do you have to work?”

“Because it’s their money not mine,” he said.

Her mouth dropped open “but you’re their son. What’s theirs is yours.”

“So according to you it’s alright to take advantage of them,” he turned back to chopping the carrots.

“You’re twisting my words,” she cried “I just don’t see why you would need to work when they have enough money that you don’t have to.”

“I like being independent,” he said. 

“I’m independent,” she said bristling at what felt like an insult.

“Sure, until you need your next hand out,” he said, moving past her to grab more carrots to chop. “Look, I’m a little busy to talk right now. So if you’re not here to help you should probably leave.”

This was so not what she expected. She had thought Fox would understand. Would offer to help her plan her parent’s party. What was she supposed to do now?

“What did you do?” Rose demanded as soon as Brooks entered the house.

Brooks raised a hand, running his fingers through the shorter locks on his head. “Atlas said it looked good.”

“He would,” Rose snorted, putting her hands on her hips. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Brooks said, moving towards the hall mirror. 

Rolling her eyes, Rose huffed “it makes you look like such a boy.”

Brooks froze, torn by his sister’s careless words. A part of him was happy that his appearance was starting to match how he felt on the inside. But another part of him withered inside “you never really accepted me.” he said as he turned from the mirror “you never really believed me when I told you how I felt locked inside the wrong body.”

“Of course I did,” Rose said “I’ve always supported you.”

“I wonder,” Brooks sighed more to himself than to his sister.

“You should take it as a compliment,” Rose said as if she could erase the hurt she caused by saying it was something it wasn’t.

“Why are you here?” Brooks asked, wanting desperately to change the subject.

“I need your help in planning our parents’ 25th anniversary,” Rose said as if she hadn’t just crushed her brother’s heart. 

“Since when do they want a party?” Brooks demanded.

“Twenty five years is a long time,” Rose persisted. “So I thought since they never had a formal wedding that it’d be fun if we all dressed up. You and I could wear matching dresses like we did when we were little….”

“No,” Brooks interrupted her before she could elaborate further.

“No what,” Rose asked, blinking at her in surprise.

“I’m not wearing a formal dress,” Brooks said.

“What’s the big deal,” Rose demanded, “it’s just for a few hours.”

Shaking his head Brooks turned away from her. “I’m not wearing a dress, formal or otherwise.”

“Why are you being so selfish?” Rose grabbed Brooks arm before he could slip from the room “it’s for our parent’s anniversary. We always dressed the same when we were little. It’s for them.”

Brooks glared at his sister “fine I’m the selfish one. Now get out of my room.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Rose demanded “you were never like this until you started seeing that guy, what’s his name, Atlas. I bet he’s been filling your head with a bunch of nonsense.”

“He has nothing to do with this,” Brooks jerked his arm free. “I am capable of making my own decisions.”

“Just think about it,” Rose pleaded. 

“I said no,” Brooks shouted as he stomped across his room to where his backpack lay next to his bed. 

“We’re not done discussing this yet,” Rose said, blocking his path.

“I have class,” Brooks glares at his sister and she moves out of his way.

“This isn’t over,” Rose called after him.

“It is as long as you think I’m going to wear a dress,” Brooks said as he swept past her. 

Rose stared after her brother wondering how things had gone so wrong.

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“I don’t understand why this is happening all of a sudden,” Kade said, giving his daughter a perplexed look. 

“It’s not all of a sudden,“ Brooks cried, his face red from trying to make himself understood. 

Grant sighed “we know this transgender thing is popular right now but we thought you were smarter than that.”

“It has nothing to do with how smart I am or how popular it is. It’s about how I feel.” He took a deep breath “you don’t understand what it’s like to wake up every day and know you’re in the wrong body.”

“Does this have anything to do with you liking that girl?” Turning to his husband, Kade asked “what was her name?”

“It has nothing to do with her,” Brooks glared at his parents. 

“We understand if you’re uncomfortable coming out as a lesbian,” Grant assured her. “It hasn’t always been easy for your dad and I being a gay couple. But you don’t have to do something so drastic to appear normal.”

The shock of his dad’s words left Brooks speechless. His mouth dropped open but no words came out. How could his parents think he wanted to be transgender for appearances? Tears rolled down his cheeks “you don’t understand.”

“We understand that you want to erase the little girl we love and cherish out of existence,” Kade was just as tearful as Brooks was. 

“Do you think if it was a choice I’d choose this?” Brooks said. “I’d do anything not to feel like this. To feel normal. To wake up and look in the mirror and be happy with what I see. But I don’t. I hate what I see.”

“If you feel like that then why didn’t you tell us,” Grant asked. “We would have gotten you help.”

“It’s not a mental disease,” Brooks cried.

“I read something that therapy has proved useful in helping some people to accept who they are,” Kade said. 

“I know who I am,” Brooks said, looking between his parents.

“You’re our beautiful daughter,” Grant said before Brooks could continue “we’ll get in contact with a therapist and you’ll see we’re right.”

“But…” Brooks sighed “fine.” He pushed his chair away from the table wanting nothing more than to be alone and hope for the ground to open up and swallow him.

Rose walked into the kitchen just in time to hear her parents discussing Brooks. They looked up at her with expectant eyes “what?” she asked, wishing she hadn’t wanted a snack before going up to her room.

“What do you think of Brooks wanting to become a boy,” Grant asked, patting the chair next to him indicating he wanted her to join them.

“Um,” she looked around her like she hoped the house would spontaneously combust. 

“She must have confided in you,” Kade said. “Help us wrap our heads around this.”

She moved forward with small hesitant steps. Sitting down across from her parents she made a point of checking her phone, hoping for someone to call her. 

“Is she doing this to get back at us,” Grant forged ahead. “Is she mad at us because we insisted she get extra help when she starts university this fall?”

She gave her dad a ‘what are you talking about’ face. “She was hurt that you didn’t think she could do the work…”

“Of course she can do the work,” Kade protested. “We just thought she needed a little boost, you know with her dyslexia.”

“Does she think being a boy is going to help her studies,” Grant asked.

“What,” she couldn’t help but burst into giggles “no. She might be confused but she’s not delusional.”

“I’m not confused,” Brooks shouted from where he stood by the refrigerator. 

Rose jumped to her feet “I didn’t mean … .It’s not what it sounded like.”

Crossing his arms defensively around himself “so I didn’t just hear you say I was confused?”

“Well,” Rose’s face twisted, “I meant the situation was confusing.”

“Don’t be mad at your sister,” Grant said, “she was just trying to help.”

Brooks shrugged, glaring at his sister. “Yeah right. Helping.”

“I am,” Rose cried her cheeks burning “I was trying to explain and I,” she sighed “I didn’t do a very good job.”

Moving towards his daughter Kade put a comforting hand on her shoulder “I think you’re right. Brooks is confused. Once she goes to therapy she’ll feel better.”

Slamming his water bottle down on the counter, glaring at his family “I’m not confused. I know what I am, whether you want to believe it or not.”

“Brooks,” Rose called after him “I’m sorry.” But Brooks was already halfway up the stairs with no intention of stopping.

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“You could be really pretty,” Rose said following Brooks into his room. “All you need is a little makeover.”

With trepidation Brooks watched as Rose opened her purse and pulled out a small arsenal of beauty products. “I thought we were in a hurry,” he stammered, pulling out his suitcase.

“Don’t you want to make a good impression on that tutor of yours,” she asked. “He’s kind of cute.” 

“We’re just friends,” he said as he tossed a few items into the suitcase. 

Rose watched him in the mirror “you do think he’s cute.”

“Is he?” Brooks shrugged, “I haven’t noticed.”

Turning “yes you have.”

Refusing to meet her eyes, Brooks moved towards the door “I’m ready.”

“Let me give you a makeover,” Rose pleaded.

“Makeup really isn’t my thing,” Brooks said even though he let Rose lead him back towards the mirror.

“I know lots of guys who wear makeup,” Rose said. 

“I don’t know…”

“Trust me,” Rose pushed him down to the bed.

“Aren’t we in a hurry?” Brooks said as Rose took his chin and rotated his face from side to side humming softly.

“We’re already late,” Rose said, turning to select a light lilac eyeshadow “now hold still.” 

“I don’t think…” Brooks grimaced as he felt the first stroke against his eyelid “Not too much.”

“Don’t worry,” Rose assured him. 

Squirming to look around his sister to see in the mirror, Brooks said “let me see.”

“Not until I’m done,” she said, snatching his chin to hold him still. “Trust me. When I’m finished Atlas won’t be able to look away.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mumbled.

“What was that?” Rose asked, turning from the mirror where she was selecting the right lip color.

“I said I’m afraid he’ll think I look like a clown,” Brooks said.

Stepping aside, Rose let him see himself in the mirror. “You’re beautiful,” she said, “if only you’d wear something other than black.”

Staring at his reflection Brooks swallowed a lump, blinking back tears. He didn’t recognize himself. “It’s too much. I need …”

Grabbing his arm, Rose said “we don’t have time.”

As soon as they stopped in front of Atlas’s dorm, Brooks hopped out of the car. 

“We don’t have time for this,” Rose shouted after him. 

“We’ll be quick,” Brooks called over his shoulder without stopping.

Pushing open the door he passed a couple of boys on their way out. One of them whistled while the other mumbled something that sounded like “I thought she was a boy.”

“She’s pretty hot for a boy,” someone else said. 

Any other comments were drowned out by distance and laughter and the noise inside Brooks head. 

“Brooks,” Atlas called when he saw him standing and staring into space. “Are you alright?”

Tears shimmered in his eyes “I…they…”

“Did those guys say something to you?” Atlas felt like running after his dorm mates but Brooks’ obvious distress kept him rooted in place.

“They…” a sob tore through his throat. 

Pulling him close, patting his back, trying to give what comfort he could even though he had no idea what the problem was. 

Taking a deep breath Brooks pushed away from Atlas. Swiping a hand across his face, smearing makeup everywhere “we should go.”

Seeing the smeared makeup Atlas started to connect the dots. “Did Rose do this?”

Nodding Brooks let Atlas lead him to the kitchen sink “I told her it was too much.”

“And those guys made comments,” Atlas said, running some water. 

Using some dish soap Brooks started to scrub his face. “They thought I was a girl,” his voice cracked.

If it was his sister Atlas would have laughed but instinctively he knew it would have devastated Brooks to hear his laughter. “I guess that’s not what you were going for?”

Brooks shook his head, hiding his face behind his hands. “I should have washed it off before we left but Rose was in a hurry.”

Atlas pressed his lips together before what he thought of Rose came out. “Makeup isn’t for everyone. I know some guys like it and don’t get me talking about all the goths.” 

Brooks giggled a little “all I looked like was a girl.”

Shrugging Atlas turned from Brooks to rummage in his bag. He pulled a container out “here. You might want to put this on. Your skin is going to dry out from the dish soap”

“Thanks,” Brooks held it to his nose, sniffing “mmm smells good.”

“Doesn’t it? My dad gave it to me,” Atlas said “it makes your skin really soft and smooth.” .

“What’s taking so long?” Rose’s annoyed voice caused both boys to jump at the sound.

“Um,” Brooks mumbled, looking towards the floor like he was guilty of something.

“It’s my fault,” Atlas said. “I splashed water in his face and ruined his makeup.”

“Oh,” her eyes blinked, taking in her brother’s changed appearance. “Well hurry up. I don’t want to be driving all night.” She turned and stomped off.

“Thanks,” Brooks said, handing Atlas’ his cream. 

“No problem,” he muttered, “is she always like that?”

Shrugging “pretty much.”

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Atlas fumbled for his phone, his eyes half open, the blaring alarm assaulting his eardrums. “I hate morning,” he mumbled to himself as succeeded in turning the alarm off after hovering over the snooze option for longer than seemed humanly possible. Standing, he raised his arms above his head, stretching like a cat. 

Shuffling towards the shared bathroom, scratching his head wishing they had gotten to the dorm earlier the night before. For as much as Ivy complained about his driving her’s was on par with a ninety year old without their glasses. Stepping into the shower he let the hot water pour off his head and face, hoping the heat and pressure would generate within him the energy he lacked. 

Stepping from the shower, his face contorting as he yawned, “why did I agree to meeting them so early?” It was the same question he asked himself the night before when he slipped between the sheets for a few hours of sleep.

“Should have made it for noon or something,” he grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. “It’s a good thing being a tutor doesn’t rely upon looks.”

Checking the time, groaning when he realized he had less than fifteen minutes to make it across campus. “So much for breakfast,” he muttered as he pushed past his dorm mates as they made their slow progress into the showers.

Sprinting across the grounds he pushed open the doors just in time to find a student sitting at one of the tables picking at their nails. “Sssorry,” he gasped trying to catch his breath.

They looked up then down at the hands.

Approaching the table, Atlas pulled out a chair. Sitting down he held out his hand “I’m Atlas Weston.”

Staring at the hand inches from his face the student clasped it in a brief handshake, eyes glued to the table top.

“Uh ok,” Atlas clasped his hands in front of him, craning his neck to look around the room wondering if he had the wrong student. Seeing no one else he said “are you Brooks Mueller? I was to meet her to set up a tutoring schedule.”

Nodding Brooks glanced up and away just as quickly.

“You’re Brooks,” Atlas said, unsure whether he should be relieved or concerned. “Um well,” he looked around hoping to see a professor or someone in authority he could consult with. “Miss, are you alright? I could call someone…”

Brooks shook his head “he/him.”

“What?” Atlas stammered unsure if she was talking to him.

Looking up Brooks repeated “he/him. My preferred pronouns.”

“Oh,” Atlas felt his face flush “sorry I … didn’t know.”

“It’s alright,” Brooks said “I’m used to it.”

Leafing through his paperwork Atlas frowned “they should have noted your pronouns in here.” Wondering what else might be missing, he asked “do you even want a tutor?

“My parents think I need one,” Brooks said “along with other things.”

Snorting Atlas grinned “parents tend to think they know more about us then we do.” Atlas saw the corners of Brooks’ mouth lifted in a faint but amused smile. Closing his folder he pushed it away “why don’t you tell me what assistance you want from me.”

Thinking over his offer Brooks said “I do need help with reading and understanding directions.”

Nodding Atlas grinned “I can help you with that.”

“And I,” Brooks looked steadily at Atlas, “I could use a friend.”

“Well we’ll be spending a lot of time together,” Atlas said “I don’t see why we can’t be friends. So tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what,” Brooks asked.

Atlas could see the way Brooks’ eyes darted around the room wondering if he made him uncomfortable “well what type of music do you like?”

Letting out a relieved sigh “that’s not what I expected you to ask.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Atlas said “I like soft rock.”

“I prefer alternative rock,” Brooks said. 

“Maybe you could suggest some bands for me to listen to,” Atlas said “maybe I’ll find something I like.”

“I’ll do better than that,” pulling out his phone he pulled up a playlist. Music blasted from the speaker.

A moment later someone approached “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Why?” Atlas asked.

“Students come here to study,” they explained.

“We’re the only ones here,” Atlas pointed out.

“Rules are rules,” the person said.

“Fine we’ll leave,” he agreed, pulling his phone out and handing it to Brooks “can I have your contact information?”

Walking from the building Brooks handed Atlas his phone back. “Thank you.”

Taking the phone Atlas looked down smiling as he saw that Brooks had added some songs for him to listen to. “For what?” he asked.

Glancing over his shoulder “for not asking a bunch of questions.” Seeing the confused expression on Atlas’s face Brooks continued “you know, about my preferred pronouns…”

“Oh that,” he shrugged. “I figured if you wanted to tell me you would and if not, it’s none of my business.”

Before Brooks could respond someone called his name, demanding his attention. “That’s my sister,” he mumbled to Atlas “I have to go.”

“I’ll see you later,” Atlas said as Brooks hurried to meet their sister. 

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Chapter 10 – So Wrong

Rose walked into the kitchen, yawning as she reached for the coffee pot. It took her a moment to realize the usual welcoming aroma, and warm

In order to avoid her parents ultimatum to get a job, Rose decides to plan their 25th wedding anniversay party. in the process she forgets her promises to volunteer at the shelter and she alienates her brother. The next chapter of The Art of Being Yourself is available on my WP Blog if you want to read it now otherwise it'll be posted next weekend.

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Rose peeled the bright yellow gloves from her hands. She didn’t know what was worse, the smell or the sweat that made the gloves stick to her skin. 

“Not exactly what you expected,” Fox said as he joined her.

“You better not be bringing more dirty dishes,” she said “and no, this is not what I expected to be doing today.” She couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his laughter. “How can you be so chipper after working like a dog?”

“I kind of smell like one too,” he said as he dunked his head under the faucet letting the cold water run over his head.

“Well…I wasn’t going to mention that,” she giggled.

“Why,” he grinned, winking at her as he shook his head sending a spray of cold water through the air.

“Stop,” she cried, holding her hands out in front of her as water sprayed her. “I probably smell like a dog too after slaving the afternoon away washing dishes.”

Sniffing “I was wondering what that smell was,” Fox said.

“You sir are no gentlemen,” she said as her face flushed. 

“No, probably not,” Fox agreed. “I can show you where the donations go.”

“Donations?” she asked, confused.

“You said you brought some donations earlier,” he reminded her.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded “I did. I forgot.”

“We best get that taken care of before the supper rush starts,” he said moving towards the door.

“Do you do this everyday,” she asked following him.

“Just on my time off,” he said, leading the way to the parking lot. “Where are you parked?”

“This isn’t your job?” she asked. She walked over to her car and popped the trunk. 

“No one gets paid for working at the shelter,” he explained. “Everyone you saw here today volunteers their time and money.”

“Really,” she said, sounding as surprised as she looked.

“Yes really,” Fox chuckled at her.

“You think I’m clueless don’t you?” 

“Yeah a little,” he admitted, grabbing one of the boxes from the trunk.

Following him she said, “fine maybe I am.”

“No, maybe about it,” Fox said, setting the box down and went back out to retrieve the other box.

“What do you suppose I should do then?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “volunteer.”

“Will I be able to choose what I do?” she asked.

Shaking his head “nope, that’s up to the chef and he…”

“Doesn’t like me,” she finished.

“Fraid not,” Fox agreed.

“How was your day,” Grant asked as Rose joined them for supper.

Rose couldn’t hide the smile her lips persisted in making. “It was … interesting.”

“Uh huh,” Brooks said sitting next to her. “That smile says there’s a boy involved.”

“No there isn’t,” Rose denied covering her face as the cheesy grin on her face called her a liar.

Kade joined them “did you drop off the clothes at the shelter?”

“You went to the shelter,” Grant repeated, with raised eyebrows.

“Why is that so surprising?” Rose demanded sitting back glaring at her father.

“It’s not something you’ve ever been interested in before,” he said.

Brooks glanced over at his sister “is that the shelter the church runs? The one where you met that boy?”

“Oh,” Grant grinned, nodding “that makes sense.”

“Why is it that I do something good and you all think it’s because of some boy?”

“Because it almost always has something to do with a boy,” Grant told her.

Holding her hands out “well look at my hands. Have I ever done something like this to get the attention of some boy?”

Grant’s eyes swept over his daughter’s hands “looks like you ruined your manicure.”

“I washed a million dishes today,” she said “and I’m going to do it again tomorrow.”

Kade made a sound that sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “I hope that boy’s worth it.”

“Why doesn’t anyone believe I’m volunteering out of the generosity of my heart?” she demanded .

“Because we know you,” Brooks said.”There’s always a boy involved.”

“Alright, fine,” Rose made a face at Brooks “there is a boy but I don’t think he likes me.”

“Then there’s something wrong with him,” Grant said.

“He’s perfect,” Rose let out a dreamy sigh “the problem is me.”

“If he can’t see how good you are then he’s the problem,” Grant said.

“He volunteers his free time helping at the shelter,” Rose said “and he probably thinks I’m a spoiled brat because I didn’t even know people did that. I thought they got paid.”

Kade gave her a sympathetic look “you’ll learn.”

Nodding she grinned “that’s why I’m going back. I’m going to wash another million dishes.”

“He must be something special,” Brooks said “for you to risk ruining your hands.”

“Oh he is,” Rose affirmed “but I’m not doing this because of him. I really want to help those people.”

“Maybe we could all volunteer as a family,” Kade suggested.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Rose enthused, “I’ll check into it.”

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