Because You're Different ✔

23. House

Sam

Mom and dad were home again. It'd been eight months. Seemed like their time away became longer with every year. Last time, it was six months, before, three. I just wanted them to go away, so June could come back home. It felt wrong to see dad sitting in his study; it had become hers. I mostly kept to my room, sometimes listening to ABBA music because it made me think of grandma, of when we still lived with them in this house, when there hadn't yet been crappy art carpets in the living room, and the walls had been decorated with colorful pictures, and the four of us would play board games in the kitchen.

"Sam? Honey, are you coming to join us?"

I sighed, kicking my bedroom door. Why couldn't he have gotten a girlfriend they didn't like? There were so many hot girls at his college, and yet, he had to get the rich one from a good family. Mom and dad were delighted with Charlotte; I think they were already planning the wedding. Worst thing was that Nathan was making an effort not to shout at them. I hated it.

Intentionally messing up my hair and leaving a few random shirt buttons undone, I went to join them in the kitchen. When mom spotted me, she jerked her head, eyebrows knitted, in a "come on, look presentable" kind of way. I ignored her, sitting down next to Nathan. Charlotte looked beautiful as ever, smiling at my dad like he was actually a nice guy. I wondered if she was just a dumbass, or that she was pretending. I hoped the last.

Take-out. Great. Dad was in the middle of some boring speech, so I asked loudly: "Where's June?"

The table fell silent. All four of them looked at me.

Nathan ran his hands through his hair. "It's her dad's day off. I think she was going to cook for them."

I huffed, eying the Thai food in front of me. A hundred times more expensive, a hundred times less tasty as June's homemade stuff.

"About that, Nathan," mom began, chin high in the air, "when I went into the guest room this morning, it almost was like it's not a guest room anymore. You're not letting the girl live here, are you?"

Nathan shrugged, taking a sip of his wine. Old Nathan would've roasted her in a second.

"You're right," I said, glaring at my brother. "It's not a guest room, it's June's room. And I don't understand why she isn't here." This time, it was Nathan sending me a warning glance. I ignored him too.

"Well, Sam, this is family time—" my dad started.

I snickered. "Family time? We have family time every day. Nathan, me, and June. That's family."

Nathan kicked me under the table.

"Really?" mom said, raised eyebrows. "Her parents let her stay here all the time, in the company of two young boys? Seems very irresponsible to me."

I wanted to reply something with lots of swearing, but she finally had seemed to cross some invisible line: "I don't think you're one to talk about irresponsibility, Madeline," Nathan said, and I saw a flicker of his laser eyes. Yes!

"You two don't need looking out for any more," mom said, already turning on her lawyer mode. "That girl, however, is special needs, and I think it's a case of neglect. Those parents--"

"—love their daughter and are working day and night to provide for her," Nathan finished. "I won't have you speaking badly of them. Not in my house."

Mom laughed disbelievingly. Dad put his fist on the table. "Your house? Son, we might not live here most of the time, but the deed is still in our name, not in yours."

Laser eyes activated fully! Yes! Charlotte was focusing on her hands once again, playing with her rings, cheeks red. Yeah, girl, this was the real Nathan! Get used to it.

"I know," Nathan said calmly. "But not for long. Remember your mother's will, dad? Once I turned twenty, I was to get the house." BAM! Nice one, bro!

I grinned, pleased with his lawyer skills. Maybe law school had been good for him, after all.

"If you wanted it," dad said.

"Yeah," Nathan said. "And I want it."

Mom's eyebrows were rising higher with the second. "Have you discussed this with your girlfriend?"

"Oh, really, Mrs. Redstone..." Charlotte said, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

"All due respect to Charlotte," Nathan said, taking her hand. "I don't think this really has anything to do with her. Gran wanted me to have the house. I want it. I don't see what else there is to discuss." At that moment, a melodious tune jingled through the kitchen. Shit! It was just getting interesting... Everyone took out their phones, but it was Nathan who walked out to take a call, leaving a sizzling silence behind.

"Err, shall we eat?" Charlotte suggested awkwardly. "Before it gets cold?"

We didn't have to answer. Nathan appeared in the doorway, buttoning up his coat. "It's Mr. Guevara," he told me, and the seriousness of his tone made my stomach drop. "He's in the hospital — you stay here, alright? I'll keep you in the loop."

"Nathan, what on earth—" started mom, but he disregarded her completely.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte. Sam will call you a cab, later."

And then he was gone, leaving me with an ashen taste in my mouth.

"Who's Mr. Guevara?" Charlotte asked me, clearly confused.

I swallowed. "June's dad."