All This Time

5 ⦿ in which i meet the it-girl

Okaaay, maybe she isn't as bullied as I first thought. She's the type of girl who's more likely to be the bully. My hands bunch into fists at my sides. "Charlotte was the spider," I correct, though I have a feeling she already knew that.

"Was she?" Graeme feigns, looking perplexed. She swivels her attention from me back to her brother. "Diana was looking for you," she informs.

From the subtle inflection she puts on the word "Diana", I get the impression that this isn't a girl well-liked by either Graeme or her brother.

"Excuse me," Wolf says, already walking away.

"I'll take her up to her room," Xander offers. "It's right next to mine, right?"

Graeme nods. "It's okay if you share with Xander, though. My parents are open-minded about premarital sex." From the downward twist of her lips, I get the impression that me having sex with Xander makes her blood boil.

Xander doesn't bother holding back his belly-laugh. "We're not together," he says between wheezing laughs. His arm around my shoulder tightens and he pulls me against his side. He would probably have been more convincing if he had actually let go of me at some point, I thought. But being a boy, he is, of course, oblivious to this kind of female rivalry.

Graeme's expression clears and she presses her feet together, standing rapt to attention. "She's not your girlfriend?" she asks, looking between Xander and me like she's searching for something.

"Not even a little bit," I confirm, sidling away from my best friend. I love him, I really do, but oh my god is he oblivious.

I'm instantly the recipient of her dazzling, thousand-watt smile. "Well, then," Graeme grins, the corners of her mouth flicking upwards.

I smile awkwardly. Xander has this effect on girls. In the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit that it's not the first time a girl has considered me a threat to whatever designs she has on him. Xander is one of those people who has been blessed with both good looks and friendly boy-next-door charm. He has gentle features and a square jaw with a pointy chin - which sounds weird but isn't, really. He has thick eyelashes, warm brown eyes, and an always-ready smile on his lips. When he laughs, it isn't one of those polite "ha ha ha, how funny" droll laughs people always seem to have; he has a side-splitting laugh that makes his eyes crinkle and a deep dimple appear in his left cheek.

Having decided that she can sufficiently lay her claim on him, Graeme links her arm through Xander's with comfortable familiarity. "Why don't we show Charlotte around the house?" she suggests.

"She's just come off a flight," Xander starts to say, but she's already tugging him away possessively, and I have no choice but to trail behind.

We pad through the beige-carpeted hallway into a large room with a cathedral, wood-beamed ceiling. There is a large bespoke fireplace of white marble, engraved with scenes of pilgrims on horses. It looks like something out of the Canterbury Tales, I muse, my gaze sliding from the roaring fireplace to the rest of the room. One wall was pure glass and beyond it, a garden with shoulder-high hedges, dimly lit by fairy lights entangled on bare tree branches.

The room, what I assume is a formal sitting room, is uncomfortably large. A baby grand piano stands in the corner and a few scattered settees aimed towards the fireplace look like they'd make your back hurt if you sat down for too long. In front of the fireplace, an ornate desk with an antique brass desk lamp are bathed in an orange glow. A woman in a floor-length red skirt and white cashmere sweater sits there reading a book and she springs up when we enter, a polite-hostess smile on her face.

"You must be..." she starts to say, then falters, glancing at Graeme. "Darling?"

"This is Charlotte, Mom," Graeme supplies. She moves to stand next to her mother, dragging Xander with her. Side by side, I see the resemblance. In thirty years, she will look like her mother, I can tell. They have the same full-bodied hair and face shape, except Mrs. van der Waals is a few inches shorter than her daughter and has cerulean-blue eyes instead of gray ones.

"It's a pleasure to have you with us during the holidays," Mrs. van der Waals recovers gracefully, inclining her head regally. My gaze dips to her neck, where Graeme's mother is wearing a large emerald-encrusted pendant in the shape of an octagon. "Please, dispense with the formalities and call me Rhona."

Whenever an adult says this to me, it feels like a test. They say it more and more often now that I'm no longer a teenager, and it still feels oddly disrespectful. I smile in lieu of a response. "Thank you so much for inviting me into your home during Christmas. I know it was probably a huge imposition."

"Not at all!" Rhona looks genuinely surprised. "We have plenty of room and any friend of Xander's is a friend of ours." She smiles warmly at him. "This is the first time Wolf brought a friend home."

Not surprising, since dear old Wolfie's kind of an ass. But I can hardly say that to his mother, now can I?

"Mom," Graeme hisses, darting an angry look toward me. Obviously, she doesn't want me to realize what a friendless jerk her brother is.

I stand there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. Somehow Xander has endeared himself to this family and I feel like the outsider horning in on what is clearly a family Christmas. As if on cue, loud laugher bounces off the walls in another part of the house, and resounds in the sitting room.

"Sounds like your father served the spiced rum," Rhona says, her lips pursing in displeasure. "Why don't you kids run along and get ready for brunch?" She seems to catch sight of my outfit for the first time and she exclaims, "Graeme, don't tell me you didn't even let the poor girl freshen up after her long flight!"

She clucks her tongue and makes a shooing motion with her hands. "Xander, why don't you show your friend her bedroom?" To me, she smiles and places her hand on my shoulder gently. "I hope you'll find everything you need in your room, but if you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you so much, Mrs. van der -- Um, I mean, thank you, Rhona," I amend quickly.

The older woman beams fondly at all three of us, then claps her hands together in short, uniform bursts. "Chop chop!"

Author's Note: What do you guys think of Rhona and Graeme? Is Rhona as nice as she appears to be? Will Graeme be Charlotte's best friend or worst enemy? And also...who is this mysterious Diana?!