WHO KNEW JD KANE COULD COOK?
Abby promised herself this interesting fact would not alter her feelings toward him, but the fact that he volunteered to cut the onions—and diced them like a sous chef—carried more weight than she liked to admit. She loved cooked onions, but raw ones were lethal on her eyes.
JD diced on the cutting board. Chop, chop, chop. The conversation had been pleasantly surprising, centering on genetic disease before drifting to treatments and how everything could relate to their assignment. Now they were talking about research and cures. JD actually knew more than most about science. Against her will, her respect for Mr. Full-of-Himself had taken a major upturn.
Poor Kylee added little to the conversation, her furrowed eyebrows proof the subject matter was not one of her interests.
JD dumped the onions, peas, and carrots into a frying pan of heated olive oil. A hiss of steam rose up around his face. “Yeah. But clinical trials are essential to developing drugs. If the laws weren’t so strict against human testing, we’d have cures by now.”
Human testing? Abby should have known more cons were lurking below the surface. This was worth two strikes on JD’s already con-heavy list. “Um, those are good laws, JD.”
JD stirred the sautéing veggies. “Whatever.”
An eerie déjà vu moment flashed over Abby. This was her mom and dad’s late-night arguments all over again. What was that saying about girls choosing guys like their dads?
Not in a million years.
Abby took a deep breath. JD would not win this debate; she knew her stuff. “Pharmaceutical companies sometimes go too far. Most have no code of ethics when it comes to dollar signs. Do you know what happened with testing on prisoners?”
JD popped a slice of carrot into his mouth. “Doesn’t matter. They were volunteers.”
“It was abuse. Inmates earned ten times more as human guinea pigs than they ever earned from whatever prison jobs were available. Those who did agree may have been mentally ill or addicted to drugs, and some were probably too illiterate to read what they were agreeing to. Plus, they were offered the worst types of testing. Sensory deprivation, chemical treatments, psycho surgeries—”
“You don’t know that’s fact. Besides, it’s their bodies.” JD dumped in the rice and stirred. “If they wanted to donate their bodies for science, I say, good for them. It’s a noble cause.”
The food smelled fabulous, but Abby was too annoyed to savor the aroma. “It’s insane. People were warped for life after some of that stuff. I agree that certain amounts of human testing are necessary, but only after the results on animals prove it’s safe. The laws the FDA set up are to protect people.”
“You think they should test on animals?” Kylee’s voice took on a high-pitched squeakiness.
JD cracked an egg into a glass bowl. “That’s what they’re here for.”
“You know what …” Abby should never have let JD into her house. She’d already marked him as trouble. What had she been thinking letting him worm his way inside for a second chance? Being an animal lover herself, she smiled at Kylee and tried to word things more sweetly. “Testing on animals saves human lives. Virtually every medical achievement of the twentieth century relied on the use of animals in some way.”
Kylee smacked her gum. “That is so mean.”
“Uh,” JD said in a nasty tone, “cancer is mean.”
Kylee asked, “Why can’t they find cures without testing on animals?”
“They can,” JD said. “If the FDA would ease up. They’ve got such strict rules on testing these days. It needs to change, or we’ll never cure anything.”
Abby fumed. “You think it’s right to harm one person to cure another? If a healthy person gets sick trying to help, then you’re only making more people sick.”
JD rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Which is why embryonic stem cell research is so perfect. But there are lots of people against that too. Mostly religious types.”
Abby set her jaw. An inner heat cascaded over her. “Embryonic stem cell research is testing on humans, JD. It’s the same thing. That’s why people are against it. Human beings are not guinea pigs.”
“Um … it’s cells in a petri dish, Abby. Last time I checked, embryos don’t need to eat, sleep, or use the john.”
“An embryo is alive from the moment the sperm fertilizes the ovum. It’s called conception.”
His mouth twitched. “So you say, religious type.”
“Are you trying to insult me by calling me religious?”
He lifted his hands, then had the audacity to wink.
Abby jerked the spatula from his hand and pushed him away from her fried rice. “You think this is funny? I suppose you think we should destroy life to prolong life? That concern for the people on earth inflicted with diseases demands we sacrifice the lives of those waiting to be born?”
“Abby,” Kylee said. “These are really cool stools. I like the cushions.”
JD mumbled, “Girls.”
Abby raised her voice. “Excuse me?”
“You think you’re so smart. You’re just emotional. Oh, poor little micey wicey. Poor little cells.”
Abby’s jaw lowered in slow motion, like a drawbridge.
JD smirked and motioned to the frying pan. “You need to add the egg now, or are you afraid it’s alive too?”
Abby dumped the egg into the pan and vented her frustration by stirring the mixture. What a surprise to discover that JD was more than a self-centered wonder jock—he was also a chauvinist and a liberal extremist.
What a waste of a stunning male specimen.
Kylee’s small voice rose over the stirring and sizzling. “So, Abby. Would you mind going over this logarithm with me? I’m having a really hard time understanding the whole base of a positive number thing.”
Thank goodness for Kylee. Eternally grateful for the change of subject, Abby switched off the burner and opened the cupboard. “You bet. Get your book while I dish this up.”
“You need to put the soy sauce in it first,” JD said.
Abby thrust the spatula against his chest and went to the cabinet to get plates. As much as she enjoyed this lupus assignment, she couldn’t wait until it was over and she would have no more reason to mix company with JD Kane.
Dinner long gone, Abby and Kylee sat on the loveseat in the living room, working through an equation. JD slouched in Abby’s armchair, reading the genetic diseases book.
The front door whooshed open. “Abby, honey? What’s going on here? I can’t pull into the driveway.” Dad slowed to a stop, his eyes fixed on JD.
Chilled air drifted over to Abby. Dad had left the door open. She watched as he dropped his briefcase on the floor, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, eyes boring into JD like lasers.
Uh oh.
Last March, Abby had gone on a group date to the movies. Afterward, everyone came back to Abby’s house to hang out. This had sparked the first and only fight between her parents on the subject of Abby and the opposite sex. She’d been careful not to let it come up again—her parents had enough problems without her adding to them.
Now Dad wore the same expression he had the night he found them all sitting in the backyard talking. His wild eyes flickered from face to face, his lips were drawn into a tight line, and his forehead was as wrinkled as a pug’s.
JD seemed to speak the silent language of territorial father. He jumped up and started across the room. “I should get home. I’ll see you tomorrow, Abby.”
“Yeah, bye.”
Abby’s eyes never left her dad’s smoldering ones. He looked like he might blow a gasket. She hoped he waited until everyone was gone.
He didn’t.
He shadowed JD to the door. It was a humorous sight; JD’s muscular body towered a foot above her dad’s plump one, but the odds didn’t deter her father. “What’s your name, son?”
“JD Kane.”
“Ah. Hmm.” Dad’s “Hmm” morphed into a moan, an odd sound somewhere between looking to answer a question and pain.
Abby jumped up and ran halfway to the door. “Dad? You okay?”
“I don’t allow boys in this house when I’m not home.” Dad’s voice came in a hoarse whisper. “Is that clear?”
JD gripped the knob and yanked the door open. “Yes, sir. Sorry.”
“Dad,” Abby said in her most soothing, round tone. “We were just studying.”
Dad waved a hand at Kylee. “You should go home too.”
Abby’s jaw dropped. “Dad!”
Eyes wide enough to show all the white, Kylee shut her calculus book, grabbed her purse, and stood.
“Kylee,” Abby said. “Thanks for coming over. Really. My hero.”
Kylee winked. “No problemo, girl. See you tomorrow.”
Abby chewed her thumbnail as she walked Kylee out. When both vehicles had left the driveway, Abby shut the front door and rounded on her dad. “I can’t believe you kicked out my friends!”
Dad hung up his coat and scarf. “I can’t believe you invited friends over without asking, especially JD Ka—a boy.”
“Asking? Who would I ask, Dad? It’s not like you’re ever home!”
Dad picked up his briefcase and started toward the kitchen. “You could have texted. I would have texted you back.”
Abby trailed behind him. “To say ‘no’? News flash, I have a life too, Dad. It’s not all about you. Maybe I need friends. Maybe I need to study with them outside of school. If you’re never home to chaperone, what should I do? Hire someone? A nanny, Dad, for a seventeen-year-old girl? Maybe I should homeschool myself. Then I could give myself assignments I already know. Easy As.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He set his briefcase on the counter and inspected the pan of half-eaten stirfry on the stove.
“You’re right. I’ll just sit in my room each night like a good daughter and come when you call me to dinner— Wait, I’m the one who makes dinner. In fact, I’m the one who does all the housework. Maybe you should go to your room!”
Dad spun around. “That’s enough.”
“Whatever!”
Abby stomped upstairs to her room and slammed the door. She flopped onto her bed, and when she saw JD Kane crouched in the corner, she screamed.