Chapter Twenty-Five - A Small Confession

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Lea

         This is more awkward than I expected.

         Here I am, sat quietly with my hands linked and nestled in my lap, while my eyes stare at the elegant dining table in front of me, never letting them look elsewhere because if I do give them the freedom to roam, I'm afraid that they might just land on River.

         He's sat right opposite me, which doesn't help one bit. Since my family and I moved into the Parker's house, we haven't actually had a decent meal all together – except for breakfasts, which go by quite quickly, with minimum conversation. So, this is our first dinner here, gathered around the mahogany table, which I'm too scared to touch, just in case it breaks.

         You know too well about my clumsiness.

         I get nudged from my side, and it's Marissa's elbow wedging into my rib cage. I want to shoot her a glare, but as I look up, my eyes instantly meet Rivers. Quickly averting my gaze, I turn to Marissa on my right, whom is sat beside Ky. Her head bobs in the direction of Malcolm, her eyes wide as if she's trying to tell me something.

         "So, Lea? What do you think?" Malcolm asks.

         "About what?" I question, oblivious to the fact that he has been trying to catch my attention for the past couple of seconds.

         He lets out a little chuckle, before repeating himself for the second time. "What do you think of your room?" He smiles, resting his intertwined hands on the table in front of him, besides the white and gold-rimmed dinner plate.

         "Uh, it's very...spacious," I state honestly.

         And for some reason, everyone thinks it's funny. I glance around the whole dining table, trying not to look at River's eyes directly. Everyone has a smile on.

         Then why do I feel like shit? 

        It's because of him - the chocolate-eyed boy that manages to rid me of my morals, yet I still feel attracted to him. Frustrating doesn't even touch how it feels. 

         And speaking of the devil, Malcolm mentions him in conversation, making my blood boil slightly. "So, is River treating well?" Malcolm smiles even more.

         My eyes focus on Malcolm's before darting to River's, whose are staring straight back at me, their look intense.

         "Yes, he is." I force a smile on my face, tugging at my cheeks to move with the curve of my lips as I reply to Malcolm's unwanted question.

         And then, my eyes avert to my folded hands in my lap, trying to hide the slight blush from revealing itself to everyone at this table.

         I guess that's the problem, he's treating me too well. 

***

         The dinner was quiet most of the time, however my father managed to get a conversation going with the Parkers, but us youngsters stayed quiet and let the adults talk. No way did I want to get involved in the conversation of politics. As they spoke, there were a few times where my gaze locked with River's. Sometimes we would look away immediately, other times we would stare at each other for a few seconds too long. 

         After everyone finished their meals, Marissa and I offered to do the dishes. So, here I am, trying to balance the most expensive and delicate-looking tableware on the palms of my hand as I walk from the dining room and to the kitchen, which is only the next room down.

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