| Chapter 4 |

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Chapter 4

Various thoughts ran through my mind as I gazed up at the humungous house stood in front of me. Was I really going to stay in this house for two and a half months?

Patently, I was.

A smile played at the corner of my lips as I traversed through the front yard and approached the front door. Bill, Christopher and my dad stayed behind to haul the bags, while the rest of us entered the house.

To say that I was impressed would be an understatement.

Ostensibly, it seemed as if I wasn't the only one who was impressed by the high ceilings and marble floors, judging by the unmistakable impressed reaction on my mother's face. I surveyed the living room, that contained white couches with red and blue pillows scattered here and then. A flat inch T.V was hung on the wall beside a rather large vase, and to the side was a door that led to the kitchen.

Dropping her bag on the couch, Lauren positioned her hands on her hips after sighing. "Are you guys hungry?" Leaving us no room to respond, Lauren nodded. "Okay, I'll go prepare dinner."

"I'll help you," my mother responded, prancing after Lauren into the kitchen.

I awkwardly lowered myself onto the comfortable couch, biting the corner of my lip as Christopher, Bill and my dad entered the living room. Bill and my dad immediately began conversing as Christopher eyed the couch I was sitting on.

It was apparent that he wanted to sit on it, but I'm assuming he was repelled by the idea of sitting beside me. Instead, he opted to sit on the couch farthest away from me.

Thankfully, my mother's head popped up from behind the door. "Do you want to help us prepare dinner?" Nodding, I stood up and neared the kitchen, taking a moment to scan it. Then, I began helping Lauren prepare dinner.

Later, dinner was served and I was led into the dining room. I plopped down on a chair in-between my mother and father, who instantaneously began digging in. "Can you pass me the salad?" I asked Christopher, who had a bowl of salad in his hands.

He grunted in response. "I'm using it at the moment."

Not wanting to anger him even further, I nodded and resumed eating pasta. Five minutes later, I cleared my throat and tried once again. "Can I have the salad now?"

As soon as the question escaped my lips, Christopher grabbed the bowl of salad in a hurried manner and dolloped a large amount of it onto his plate.

"Christopher," his mother hissed with narrowed eyes. Then, she smiled with pure exuberance. "Christopher loves my famous salad. You have to try it."

Smiling a little smile, I glanced over at Christopher. "Can I try it?" Christopher faltered for a moment, before shaking his head.

"I said I'm using it," he practically growled. Childish much?

Not wanting to leave a rude impression, I simply shrugged before going back to my food. Guess I won't ever know how that salad tasted like. "Nonsense!" Bill spoke up, aghast. "Christopher, give her the salad."

"I'm using it," Christopher reiterated in an emphatic fashion.

"It's fine—," Bill cut me off by snatching the half empty bowl from Christopher's hands and handing it over to me.

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