The Laziest Girl Alive Chapter 12

The Laziest Girl Alive Chapter 12

They froze where they stood.

My dad’s lips trembled like he wanted to say something polished for the occasion, but not a single word came out.

My mom actually took a step back, her eyes red as she stared at me.

The whole time, Ethan didn’t say a word.

He just walked over, quietly pulled open the apartment door, and made a small “after you” gesture toward our parents, still shell-shocked.

They looked back at me one last time.

Their eyes were a mess of regret, resentment, and the faintest trace of fear.

Then they left with their heads down.

The door clicked shut, and I let out a long breath, feeling like my whole body had finally unclenched.

I turned, ready to flop back into my beanbag chair.

“Wait,” Ethan called after me.

I glanced over my shoulder at him.

He came over without any extra chatter, silently packing my laptop into my backpack and slipping

in the stack of technical books I had left half-finished.

His movements were light and practiced.

“Come home,” he said quietly as he handed me the bag. “I’ll drive you.”

It took me a second to realize which home he meant.

Then I nodded.

“Okay.”

Ethan drove me back and dropped me off downstairs.

He didn’t come up.

He just handed me my backpack and said, “I’ll come visit in a couple of days.”

i made a small sound of acknowledgment and headed upstairs.

The second I unlocked the door, the rich smell of pot roast hit me like a wave.

My foster mom was in the kitchen in an apron, and she poked her head out when she heard me.

“Nora, you’re back?” she said. “Perfect timing. Dinner’s almost ready. Your dad was just talking about you.”

My foster dad looked up from the couch, pushing his reading glasses up his nose with a grin.

“I knew it,” he said. “My eye kept twitching all day. Turns out my girl was on her way home. Go wash your hands. Food’s ready.”

I tossed my bag onto the couch and sank into it, so comfortable I almost sighed out loud.

This was home.

Two days later, Ethan actually showed up.

He came loaded down with shopping bags like he was trying to empty out an entire grocery store.

My foster parents welcomed him warmly, and the three of them sat in the living room chatting,

somehow hitting it off.

I curled up on the smaller couch with a bag of chips in my arms, listening to them talk.

Ethan gave a quick rundown of what was happening with the Reed side of the family.

After that wild emotional roller coaster, my biological parents finally seemed to accept reality.

They handed the company over to Ethan and moved overseas for privacy.

Chloe had it worse.

Her carefully crafted persona completely collapsed.

Scandal after scandal blew up online until brands, studios, and her agency all dropped her.

She and Ethan broke up too.

I listened like I was hearing about someone else’s life entirely.

If anything, the chips tasted even better.

When Ethan finished, he looked over at me.

I think it was watching my foster mom chat with my foster dad while casually taking the chip bag

from my hands and replacing it with a plate of apple slices that finally made everything click for

him.

“From now on,” he said, watching me with steady seriousness, “I’ve hired a cleaning service to take care of your Institute apartment twice a week. I’ll ship your favorite snacks there every week too. If you need anything else, just tell me.”

I looked at him and suddenly smiled.

“Now that,” I said, “is practical.”

He blinked and then smiled too.

A few days later, I was sprawled on the couch like always, sun on my face as I scrolled through the

latest test data on my tablet.

A new email notification popped up.

The sender’s address ended with a domain I knew better than almost any other, one belonging to an international physics institute.

I opened it.

It was a very sincere invitation asking me to come to their headquarters and lead a brand-new

project.

I closed the tablet, leaned my head back against the couch, and squinted out the window.

The sky was a clear crystal blue, with a few lazy white clouds drifting across it.

My real world had never been the Reed mansion.

It was out there, among the stars, equations, and everything still waiting to be discovered.

The End