Hidden

(LVIII.)

"How do know that?"

"Because Jessica is my friend and she's not like that."

"Huh." She walked past him. "Are you sure that's true? You know, I've met the girl myself, and she gives off quite a first impression. Not the kind of girl I'll place in the same room as my physically challenged son. No way." She paused and turned to look at her older child in the eye. "Dudley might come back with depression from spending two minutes with her."

Doudall balled his fists as he watched his parents leave. They didn't know that. What his mother said was a lie. They didn't know Jessica like he did. She might give off this "mean girl" and bitchy aura, but she wasn't all that bad, especially when one got to know her.

In the end, he found himself seated in the backseat of his parents' Aston Martin and watching the street nightlife speeding past. Before leaving, he'd dropped his video games with Dudley, which had left the younger boy grinning excitedly.

One day, he promised himself, he'd deal with this issue squarely. Let them win this time, but there might be no next time. His brother would make his first public appearance in society soon without their parents hiding him with a cloak of vulnerability. Besides, Dudley was thirteen-old enough and smart enough to deflect ridicule. After all, he was handling middle school very well.

Doudall's mind switched to alert mode when he saw the stone fountain in front of the Snowdens' mansion come into view. The composure he'd been maintaining started to wear away.

A young butler ushered them in. Alicia did a double take at his youthfulness, as she handed him her coat. Doudall hung his coat himself, refusing the man's help. His father glared at him for the attitude. He huffed silently at his back.

They sat down first in the living room. Zoe was the first to meet them. She and Alicia hugged and pecked each other's cheeks. They seemed like long-lost friends.

Doudall quirked an eyebrow. He didn't recall any family reunion of the Curtises where he saw a face like Zoe's or Phyllis' or even Jessica's. They had always been strangers to him until now.

"Michael has been away. He's busy with work," Zoe told them. She was spectacular in a glittering sequin dress that flowed down to her toes. There was a slit on it, though, that ran from somewhere above mid-thigh to the hem. Her lips were painted a dark shade of red, matching her dress, and her hair was curled and held up in a neat, elegant bun. This was just a simple family dinner, and she'd adorned herself like this. "Say hello to my kids before we have dinner."

A little boy came forward from the marble staircase. He fixed a smile on his face and greeted them.

Doudall noticed the fakeness of the boy's smile, saw the way his eyes studied each of the visitors with so much keenness. It seemed he was reading something off them, looking for whatever in their clothes, postures, faces.

His and the boy's eyes met. What he saw in the child's green ones was strikingly familiar.

Later, Phyllis came down and introduced herself. Her smile was warm, genuine, cordial. Doudall returned it. He was shocked when she threw her arms around him. Unsure of what to do, he stood there like a dummy and let her hug him.

As befit her nature, Jessica was the last to show up. She didn't even bother to smile or play cordiality. In fact, she'd dressed in the simplest clothes. White jean trousers and a halter top. The silver studs on her pants glinted under the lights of the chandelier. Her hair hung loosely in thick waves and curls over her shoulders and down her back. The only makeup she wore was pink lipstick to match her Saint Laurent top.

"Good evening," she said in a cool monotone. To Doudall, she sounded like Craig.

Both of his parents were peeved by her aloof attitude. He could feel the displeasure rolling off of them. He avoided her eyes, though, and he never felt her stare on him.