# B-16: YA Contemporary: THE PACKING HOUSE

Sixteen-year-old Joel Scrivener has two choices: continue to run from his problems, or man-up and face them, and only one choice will keep Amber Walker in his life.

My brother’s being nice to me all of a sudden.

Either that or he’s trying to get me in trouble.

I mean to find out which one.

The tell-tale sign? This morning he gave me a forbidden Mϕnster drink he stole from the fridge. One of the jerks my mother dates stashes them at our place, but they’re off limits for us. Like police lights rolling red-blue-red-blue from every reflective surface off limits. He’s gonna get an ass whooping for sure.

I corner him in our sparse room. Not like he has anywhere to hide behind crates that are makeshift furniture and mattresses on the floor for beds. The smell of tuna hits me like a cross-uppercut.

“Gah! Jonathan!” I say, blocking my nose with my shirt. “What died in here?” Jonathan’s green eyes try to work on me the same way he would sweet talk one of his many girlfriends.