In my vision that night, eight years old me was waving my legs over the sea, sitting on the pier in Nice, when we were there for the first time. I, as in my fourteen years old self, turn around and see an albino boy approaching mini me. I immediately recognise the day I met Nico, my first friend in Nice. His nine year old version sits down next to mini me. "Salut," he says in French.
Younger me seems surprised. Though I was quite good at French because of my grandpa's lessons and school, even then, I remember my brain just blocking. It took me a few seconds to process the fact that an albino boy about my age in speaking to me in French. "Salut," I finally replied, looking at him. His skin was whiter than paper, and his eyes were red as blood, but, surprisingly, that didn't scare me, even then. Thought I was eight then, my dream vision of things that were happening or happened already appeared. I had only a few dreams, and some of them weren't so pleasant, so Nico didn't represent a fear. And his eyes, though bloody-like, were kind. His face was childish and good.
"Comment tu ta pelle?" I managed to say in a terrible accent.
"Je m'appelle Nico. Et toi?" His accent was so perfect I immediately knew he was French. Nico was also swinging his legs over the sea.
"Je suis Emma," and yet again, my accent was bad, even though I tried so hard to speak well.
"You aren't French, yes?" he asked in his bad English.
"It is you aren't, no you isn't," I said. "And yes, I'm not completely French, but I think that you are."
"Oui," he said. "I am très français."
Mini me chuckles. "I can see that."
Nico also laughed, and we laughed together, swinging our legs over the sea. His English sucked, and my French too, but it somehow worked. For few years, our conversations were spoken partly in one, and partly in other language. Pictures of our friendship flashed before my eyes. Us laughing, him, Mark, and I meeting Adelaide and Theodore, me meeting his twin sister Chloe, who is also albino, six of us jumping from the pier into the water. Nico and Chloe teaching me French ( though my dad has already taught me much, so that wasn't hard ) and me teaching them English. Adelaide teaching us German, which was a challenge, but after I started learning it in school, it became easier. Adelaide, Nico, Chloe, and I having a race in canoes, Nico and I winning. All of our water fights and fun we had. All of our friendship.
I woke up just as quickly as I fell asleep. It looks like it was early in the morning, but my brain is sharp and ready to think why did I dream of Nico. Dad, though he doesn't have a golden aura himself, explained dreams like this usually meant that the person was in danger. Usually, not always, sometimes it was just a false alarm. I still have to check, and I get to my phone on the table and turn it on, seeing it is not so early, just nine o'clock. After unlocking it in two tries, I called Nico quickly, and my phone shaking in my hands. He answers almost immediately. "Salut," he says groggily in a raspy morning voice. I might have woke him up.
"Nico!" I exclaim. "You are okay!"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
I think Nico maybe thinks I might have an aura and that over the years, I hinted it many times, but I am not sure and not risking it. So, I have to make up something. I hate lying to Nico, especially since he is one of my best friends, but I have to protect both of us. "I had a dream that you were in danger."
"Chérie, I'm completely fine," he yawns. "Maintenant, est-ce que ma chérie me laisserait dormir?"
"Chér, I don't think you need my permission to go to sleep," I say. "Just stay safe, Nico, alright?"
"Anything for you, mon Chérie," he says and hangs up.
A fucking false alarm that scared the shit out of me. I put my phone away and lay down on the bead again, closing my eyes for a few seconds before somebody knocks on my door. "Come in," I say and open my eyes to see dad coming.
"Just wondering who were you talking to," he says.
"Nico. I had a dream and thought he was in danger."
"We'll figure something out about those. Now that you're awake, you could joins us for breakfast and some American pancakes."
I nod and get out of my bed. Dad leaves the room before I start changing from pyjamas to sweatpants and a random shirt. The pancakes are on the table, still warm, and Nutella and jam are next to them. Mark is eating them, and as I pass him, I ruffle his dark hair. "Good morning, little bro," I say, just to annoy him. He doesn't like being called little, or bro.
"Good morning, big sis," he retorts.
I go to the kitchen to take a plate, sit down across Mark and put some pancakes on the plate. I put some Nutella over them and bite in. "These are good," I say, my mouth full.
After breakfast, I go back to my room and see that Sadie called me. I call her back she answers after few rings. "Hi!"
"Hi. You called?"
"Mhm. Sasha and I are going to practice fencing in the gym today after lunch, around 4, and I wanted you to come. You could use it."
"Sure."
"Sasha will knock on your door when it's time to go."
"Okay. See ya."
"See ya."
After Sadie hangs up and I put my phone away, I take out my school book and start doing my homework. There is lots of it because our professors want us to get into good secondary schools and think this is going to help. I think that if you're an idiot, you're an idiot and no homework will help you get into a better secondary school.
Jason calls me, and we start our study /homework session. We had been doing that for a little over a year now. It became a habit. Time to study - I have to call Jason. Most of the time, we don't even talk. A few times, it had happened that we hadn't uttered a single word except for greetings during our sessions. We are over with all of the homework and some studying just some time before lunch.
I put my books back in the cabinet and take a book from my bookshelf. I lay down on my bed and start reading.
"Emma, lunch!" mum yells after some time.
"Coming!" I say and go to the living room. The table is set, the forks, knives, and spoons are placed next to the plates. I sit down at my chair across Mark. "And, by the way, mum, I'm going fencing with Sadie and Sasha later."
"That's great. Did you do everything for school?"
"Yes, I did, mum. I have no exams next week, I did a few orals already, I did all of my homework now and I studied for a while. No need to worry about me at all, mum, alright?"
"Okay," mum says as she puts the pot on the table in front of Mark and I. The fish soup inside is smoking, and I can smell it. It smells wonderful, like most of the things my mum cooks.
Mark first takes his share of soup, then me, after me, mum and dad is the last. We eat in silence, which is usually the case when nobody has anything to complain about. The lunch time for four of us in the place where, when we talk, we usually fight. That is why it's better not to say anything. If we wish to talk to each other, it's better to do it some other time, when we know that it won't turn into a fight.
After we finish up the soup, I pack my things for fencing and wait for Sasha to ring the bell or knock. The waiting doesn't sit well with me, but fortunately, I do not have to wait long. When Sasha knocks, I yell, "Coming," take my bag, put on my shoes, and exit. Sasha is waiting for me, leaning against the wall.
"Come on, let's go," they title they head towards the stairs.
I spend most of the time in the gym watching Sadie and Sasha fence and practising my skills in the air. I have a few bouts with Sadie and two with Sasha, which I all lose. There were more other fencers in the gym, and a couple of them asked to have a bout against them, which I gladly accept. I lose five, but I do win three. In the end, Sasha and Sadie give me some advice, such as wave less with your épée when parrying, try to be faster and less predictable. They even show me how to do that. After a few more bouts with them and a few more watching them, I feel like I am making some progress.
The next day, I have a rehearsal for Fairytale crossover. For the past two weeks, the time I known about my dad cheating on my mum, my relationship with my dad suffered. We don't fight or anything, I just keep my distance. August and Summer are very nice and considerate, and I've became somewhat closer with them, but it's still very awkward. But I was especially afraid of today because this is the first time we'd actually have more time to talk. The days before, at least one of us was always on the stage. Today, we had some more time off the stage, and I am not sure how that will go. We still haven't discussed the whole if - my - dad - hadn't - cheated - on - my - mum - with - your - mum - you - wouldn't - be - born thing.
When my mum drops me off, I take myself a couple of seconds before entering. Alfred, the director, after our first meeting, said that we can go straight to the stage, so I do. Almost everyone is already there, except for Summer and August and a girl named Maggie. She is deaf in her left ear, but otherwise, she has no problems and is a smart, nice girl. She is the only other person except August and Summer I befriended here.
Maggie runs into the hall seconds after I sit down, panting. "Am I the last one to come?"
"Surprisingly, no," Alfred answers. "Summer and Auggie are not here yet. But we don't need them for our next scene, so we are starting."
I don't get up since I'm not in the scene and watch others act. Or try, anyway, because Alfred keeps interrupting them. After fifteen minutes of director draining the children on the stage, Summer and August run into the hall.
"Sorry we're late, Auggie was taking a bath," Summer says half ironically, catching her breath.
"And I would've done it faster if you didn't have to shave."
"Others don't have to know that I was shaving."
"We are really it interested in what you were doing at home, but right now, we have a play to finish," Alfred says strictly. "So please sit down and watch this."
They sit down next to me. "Emma?" Summer whispers. "How are you?"
"Good, how about you?"
"Fine," she frowns a bit. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yes?"
"What kind of father is dad?" she asks, hurrying to say. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"No, no, no. It's okay, you want to know, I'll tell you," I bit my lip hesitantly. "He's... he's not home much, I guess because he sometimes visits you, right?" Summer nods. "He works a lot and stuff, but when he's home, he's good, I guess. We talked about general things, and he taught me and Mark how to ski and swim and tried to learn us how to snowboard, but failed. Dad's a fine father, I don't have much to say about him," I say, looking at my hands, fingers fidgeting in the lap nervously.
The realisation that I know my dad so poorly and that I have got so little to say about him is starting to eat me up. Before I found out he cheated on mum, dad was my hero, the greatest man I have ever met, he was the person I loved the most, besides mum or Mark. After I had the vision, that image crumbled into pieces and I saw a cheater. I understand his point of view to a certain point. Dad did his best to provide a good life to all of us, but just the thought of him kissing Helena in the dark fades it away.
"He... he taught us to ski too," Summer whispers. "From how much you said, he was as much as your and Mark's father as he is ours."
"And he is," though the words sound comforting, it's actually just a fact coming out of my mouth. I didn't see them as my siblings no matter how long I've know about the fact. I wonder how long it'll take for me to accept it.
"But we are his bastards," August says coldly. "And you're his legitimate children. He'll never be our father as much as Emma and Mark's, Summer. We are bastards."
"If we are playing that way, Mark was a drunken lust one night stand and after you were conceived, my mum probably thought of abortion. You are bastards, but you are supposed to be born. Mark and I, we were born out of our mum's good will," I answer, but immediately regret my words. Not because I offended Summer or August, since I didn't, but because I realised the meaning of the words. The meaning stung because the words were correct and so true that it physically hurt. Mark and Emma Woods, siblings born out of their mother's goodwill, that's who we are. And Summer and August Payne, bastards born out of a drunken mistake.