Olivia's Curse

Chapter Five

Dad didn't notice the nail polish on the floor, or at least he said nothing about it. Mum was absent; She didn't eat with us that night, so it turned out we had plenty of fajitas to go around. Mum spent her evening curled up on the sofa as if we didn't sit feet away from her. Dad smiled and joked with Liam like we were a normal family. But I saw him worrying his lip between his teeth when he didn't think I was looking.

Liam smacked his lips together, and I cringed in disgust.

"This is delicious, Mr P," he boasted. "Best fajitas I've ever had."

"Suck up," I grumbled.

Liam silenced me by kicking my leg under the table. I spluttered, spraying food into the air between us.

"Don't talk with your mouthful, Olivia," Dad scolded me.

When it was time to clean the plates away, Liam volunteered—always the perfect houseguest. Dad allowed him to take our plates and drop them into the sink, all the while gawking at him as if Liam was the son he never had.

"Have you heard about the new family that moved in across the street?" my father asked us.

Liam nodded. "Yeah, the Irish ones?"

Dad hummed in agreement. "They're a peculiar lot."

"Peculiar how?" I folded my arms and placed them on the table.

Dad was a gossip. I always thought it had something to do with the perfect-suburban-family archetype that he tried to fulfil. No idealistic family was complete without commenting on our neighbour's private life like it was a series on TV.

"I've not seen the parents around at all, just that son of theirs. You'd think he lives alone. I only know they're Irish because I heard the boy talking on his phone the other day," Dad said.

"Do you think he'll go to our school?" Liam peered over his shoulder whilst cleaning a stubborn plate.

I threw him an uncaring glance. "Who cares."

My dad tutted, but he was smiling.

"He might be nice." Liam wore his disapproval on his face.

"I guess we'll find out, won't we?" I grumbled.

Shortly after that, with a brief "Happy Birthday" cast in my direction, Liam left. My mother didn't look up to say goodbye.

My father wished me goodnight and placed a fleeting kiss to my cheek before I went upstairs. When I entered my bedroom, the sight of lily-white curtains and the nail polish stain greeted me. I tried not to look at them.

The next morning, I discovered that the curtains did a poor job of blocking out the light. And even though it was winter, bright beams of morning sun stung my eyes.

Like most days, I made minimal effort. I nearly poked my eye out whilst applying a slither of eyeliner and mascara and threw my crinkled school uniform on. The pleated navy skirt reached mid-thigh, and the school's emblem of a large, proud oak tree sat embroidered over the left breast of my blazer.

After stuffing my old curtains into my backpack and out of sight, I left my room. As I struggled with the added weight in my bag, I cursed my stupidity. Liam easily could have smuggled the curtains out last night, and now I had to hide them myself.

I went downstairs and found Mum and Dad sat across from each other in the kitchen. A light breakfast of fruit and toast lay spread out between them, but the food didn't catch my attention. My eyes drifted to the greying hair at the head of the table where Grandpa sat, smiling serenely. He wore his cassock with pride and a small, neatly wrapped present sat in front of him. I would have bet all of my pocket money that Nanna wrapped it. The corners were far too tidy.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart." Mum smiled brightly.

"Good morning," I greeted her.

"Have some breakfast, Olivia." Dad pointed to the food. "It's the most important meal of the day."

Liam liked to call the day after my birthday my "fake birthday". My family tried their best to pretend that everything was normal with a family breakfast and sweet sentiments, but absolutely no gifts from my parents. It went unspoken, but Mum didn't believe in giving gifts to commemorate the anniversary of the incident. To prevent an argument, Dad agreed, but that didn't stop him from giving me a cake every year in secret. Nor did it stop Grandpa from dropping by. He wasn't afraid of my mum's famous glare. They rarely saw eye to eye, but rarely came to blows either—mostly because Mum knew that she'd lose every argument. That, and she confessed to me once that it felt sacrilegious to her to argue with a reverend.

I joined them at the table and loaded my plate with some toast and strawberries.

"Do you have any plans with Liam today, Olivia?" Grandpa asked. He pushed the present towards me with a slight wink.

I nodded. "Yeah, I think we will go to some Halloween thing someone from school is throwing."

I played down my true plans for the evening. Mostly because I knew that my parents wouldn't approve. The party was being hosted by Marie Armenteros, and she was in Daniella's close circle of friends. My parents didn't approve of association with the Reese's, for reasons concerning Brandon's involvement with the anniversary celebrations and the incident itself. That, and he was the one who accused my aunt of setting the fire. An event that my mother claims could never be true. In her eyes, Brandon was the reason for our family's fall from grace, not my aunt.

I lifted Grandpa's gift off the table and placed it in my lap. I unlaced the large bow on top. "Where's Nanna?"

"She had a few urgent matters to attend to at the church, but she asked me to wish you a Happy Birthday. Go on. Open it."

I lifted the lid on the box. Grandpa watched me with undisguised eagerness, and I wondered what on earth he bought me that was so exciting. I peered inside and gasped, staring in awe at the jewellery inside. It was a pendant on a golden chain. A single, amber stone sat in its centre, with the bright glow of Nanna's freshly polished crystal. I picked it up, marvelling as the white kitchen light caught in the jewel and sent spirals of glitter onto the table beneath it.

"It's beautiful," I said. "This must have cost so much. I really can't accept this, Grandpa."

Grandpa waved away my worries. "Don't be ridiculous. It was your Grandmothers. Passed down through the women in her family. We don't have a daughter, so it's yours."

That was enough explanation for me, and I threw the chain around my neck and tucked it under my school uniform, as if scared he would change his mind.

"What jewel is it?" I asked.

"Citrine," Dad said before Grandpa opened his mouth. "I remember seeing Mum wear it when I was a kid. I was always jealous that I couldn't have it myself. It's probably worth a fortune."

"And that attitude is exactly why we didn't give it to you." Grandpa winked, eliciting a giggle from my mother.

Dad scowled, and after that, we ate in silence. The tense moment only drew to a close when I stood up to leave for school. They told me to have a nice day, and I returned the sentiment. My fake birthday evolved similarly every year.

I half expected to find Elena hiding in the Laurels outside my house, but she was mysteriously absent. Disappointment trickled through me. It would have been nice to have the company on my walk to school.

When I finally arrived, Liam met me at the gates, but he wasn't alone. An eerily familiar boy stood beside him. When he looked up and met my eyes, my heart pounded in my chest so quickly that I feared it would stop. It was him. The boy from the graveyard.