Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

39. Charades

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"Mum, please." I beg.

"Ava, I can't bend the rules for one child, and not the other," she sighs. "It just wouldn't be fair."

"Mum this is important," I say, eyeing her, and she looks almost ready to give in.

Harry then catches us both by surprise and speaks up, "No, it's okay, we'd love to stay for dinner."

I turn my head quickly to face him.

What?

Reading my expression he quietly elaborates to me, "It's okay, it's just dinner. We can leave afterwards."

I'm instantly disheartened by his acceptance of my mother's invitation. I could see that she was caving, and yet he still offered to stay. It's even more frustrating that I now have to wait even longer to find out what he wants to tell me.

Perhaps he's stalling?

"Fine," I reply sulkily.

Mum announces dinner is ready roughly an hour after my mini tantrum, and we take our places at the table, this time Harry sits beside me.

"Phones?" she asks, continuing our family tradition, and collects all the phones in a box. I'm not refusing this time, but I'm certainly not going to be doing the dishes tonight, that's for sure.

"Alright, dig in," she announces, and we all help ourselves to the abundance of food on the table.

Marnie is the first to pipe up, "So, I hear you two have made it official," to which Dad drops his fork in shock, "You're literally all people are talking about right now."

Ugh, really Marnie?

I glare at her from across the table, in hopes that she'll stop this topic of conversation immediately.

"Yes, I heard," Mum smiles warmly to us, "What wonderful news! I think it's great, don't you, Ben?"

"Yeah, that's great," he answers, nodding his head. "Very good news."

Marnie smiles mischievously from across the table, and I can see she's up to her usual tricks. She's actually enjoying this. "So what ship name are you planning on having?" she smirks, and Harry splutters on his water.

"What ship?" Dad naively asks, "Where are they shipping you?" he asks, turning to Harry.

Oh. My. God.

Harry begins clearing his throat, and answers for him, "It's that thing where people merge two names together. Like Brangelina," he explains.

Ah, yes. The original ship.

"Marnie, did you really have to bring this up?" I mutter, already annoyed at having to be here in the first place.

"Styl..air," my mother contributes. Then, visibly disappointed by her efforts, she continues brainstorming to herself.

"I quite like the sounds of Hava," Harry adds, kicking me playfully underneath the table.

"Or we could just eat our dinner like normal families," Brooklyn interrupts, and for once I can honestly say that I'm thankful for his interjection. Even if he is partially responsible for my being here.

"Hava," my dad sounds out slowly, nodding his head in agreement. "It has a certain ring to it."

Ugh, I give up if they've converted Dad.