Freaks

15 • noël

With its long winding marble staircases, twenty acres of well manicured lawns and ornate artworks ranging from sculptures to priceless paintings (worth more money than my aunt and uncle combined probably made in a year), the mansion seemed to scream "Look! We're rich! Very rich!".

As we stall in the long driveway leading to the main entrance, I suddenly feel very reluctant to venture in.

That is, until Uncle Ted says:

"I still don't like this."

Then immediately, I am filled with determination to go through with this. And so to Uncle Ted, I reply, "You don't like anything."

"That's not true," Uncle Ted sulks. He's right of course, it wasn't. It just felt like the right thing to say at the time — not that I tell him that.

"I'll text you when it's over. I'll be back before ten, promise."

Uncle Ted is still grumbling over my previous statement, so I proceed to lightly pecking his stubbled cheek goodbye before exiting the car.

He manages to relax enough to exchange civil goodbyes with me, waiting for Andrew to appear at the doorway before driving off.

"Luce, you made it!" Andrew looks surprised but happy. "I almost thought you'd bail on me again."

Glancing up at the large stone pillars holding up the intricately architected roof of the terrace, I murmur, "Don't hold out on the 'not bailing' part just yet..."

On hearing this, Andrew simply rolls his eyes and grabs a hold of my hand. "You act like you haven't been here a hundred times before. C'mon."

Without waiting for a response from me (because Andrew probably knew he'd get an earful), Andrew tugs on my hand and guides me into the main front room used for entertaining guests.

Now that we were in, I had thought of the perfect response to Andrew's comment: sure, I've been here before — but usually not when there are a hundred and fifty other guests here dressed lavishly enough to make most families bankrupt.

Before I can utter this retort, Andrew, noticing how tense I am, lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers, "Relax, Lucy."

I nod, trying to appear more at ease, but the truth was, I couldn't.

Something about large houses have always intimidated me.

Maybe it's because I have gotten used to regular sized houses like my uncle and aunt's. Or maybe it's because my last experience living in a great big mansion ended with a few deaths in the family. But whatever it was, I couldn't help feeling a little suffocated, even in a place as grand as this.

"You know, there's nothing to worry about," Andrew tells me simply, manoeuvring me further into the crowded room. "Besides, you look great."

I murmur a bashful thanks at his compliment, attributing it all to the dress.

My dress is a simple champagne coloured cocktail dress with a sheer embellished back embroidered with little gems and satin flowers. For something that had more or less been chosen on a whim, it more than did the job.