I gripped Maddie's hand tightly in one hand and Clare's in the other as I stared up at the intimidating brick house before me. It was stately to say the least; massive, with at least three white balconies and a beautiful, sprawling garden. Glancing down at my shorts and sea green top, I wondered if I'd dressed up enough.
"Come on," I said, ignoring Clare as she tugged against my hand stubbornly. She hadn't even wanted to come to this dinner with Cameron's parents, but I'd forced her, and now she was giving me her worst attitude about it.
Clare rolled her eyes as I practically dragged her past Cameron's sleek convertible and a sports car, towards the front door. As I approached, I noticed the door had both a knocker and a doorbell-I didn't really know which to use.
Figuring it would never hurt to play it safe, I stuck with the doorbell, which chimed a clear melody that resounded through the yard and startled a few sparrows out of a blooming cherry blossom tree.
"Coming!" called a voice that sounded like Cameron's, though muffled, and moments later the door swung open and he was smiling in front of me.
I knew right then I should have dressed up more. He was wearing a dress shirt and slacks, and the little boy jumping around beside him was dressed exactly like him but in miniature. I pushed back my blonde hair nervously, forcing a smile, and led Maddie and Clare inside.
After he closed the door behind us, Cameron grabbed the little boy and swung him up until he was holding him on his shoulders, saying, "Slow down, buddy. This is Evelyn, and her little sisters Maddie and Clare. And this," he addressed us now, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me, "Is Peter."
"Hi, Peter," I said, waving at the little boy happily bouncing on Cameron's broad shoulders. "I'm Evelyn."
The more I looked at Peter, the more I realized he looked nothing like Cameron. He was fair-extremely fair, with a light spray of freckles across his nose but dark brown eyes. His toothy grin was crooked, but I still couldn't help but smile at his excitable nature.
"I think Mom and Dad already have dinner ready." Cameron slipped his little brother off his shoulders and took my hand, leading me through a huge foyer and down a long hallway into the kitchen. There were gorgeous plates set out on a granite countertop filled with delicious-looking food, and I could smell fresh bread baking.
"Evelyn!" A woman who I assumed to be Cameron's mother wiped her hands on a paper towel and then rushed over to me, her arms opened wide. "It's so nice to meet you! Cameron's been talking about you so much for the past few weeks."
I glanced over at Cameron pointedly-he had suddenly become very busy helping his father spoon out pasta onto the plates. Biting back a smile, I quickly hugged Mrs. Maddox and then said, "It's nice to meet you, too."
After I introduced Cameron's parents to Maddie and Clare, I helped the Maddox family carry the plates to the dining room table and set out silverware. I couldn't help but subconsciously rub my hands along my shorts to smooth them a few times, still feeling unsure about my choice of wardrobe.
I ended up sitting between Clare and Cameron at the table; Clare was avoiding looking at me as she sullenly started in on her pasta, but Cameron kept glancing me out of the corner of his eye. I tried to hide my smile as I chewed, but it was getting increasingly more difficult the cuter his expressions got.
Finally, Mr. Maddox set down his water glass and asked me, "So, Evelyn, what do you like to do?"
I wiped my fingers on my napkin, trying to buy time-I hadn't had much time for hobbies since Dad had left. "I used to cheerlead," I said, swallowing nervously. "And I like studying. I also have a job at an ice cream parlor."
"I was a cheerleader in high school," smiled up Mrs. Maddox, adjusting her pearl necklace. I couldn't help but notice that her blonde hair looked nothing like Cameron's-I wondered if it was dyed. "Why'd you give it up?"
Cameron's head jerked up from his pasta and he widened his eyes at his mom, as if to warn her not say anything more. I suspected he didn't want me thinking about the car crash and my mom's death any more than I had to.
"Time issues," I said after an awkward pause. "I sort of grew out of it, anyway."
"I play soccer like Cameron!" piped up Peter, swinging his legs enthusiastically in his chair-his feet didn't quite reach the floor. "I'm going to be as good as him one day."
Cameron leaned over and ruffled his little brother's hair. "You bet you will, buddy."
At this precise moment, I felt a pang of sadness as I looked around at the happy family scene unfolding before me and thought about all the ones my own family had experienced in the past, and how we would have live through one again. I remembered singing Christmas carols in July, of watching snow fall and curling up next to a roaring fireplace, of playing games and going to the park and riding bicycles.
"You okay, Evelyn?" asked Cameron quietly, leaning towards me so that nobody else at the table could hear him. "You looked really sad for a moment there."
I pasted on a smile, something I was becoming extremely practiced at. "I'm fine," I said. "I was just thinking."
Nobody else seemed to notice our whispered conversation, because Peter was throwing a fit about his vegetables getting mixed up in his marinara sauce. As Mr. Maddox tried to sort out the issue, Mrs. Maddox returned to addressing me.
"That's such a sweet little top," she said, pointing to my green cowl-neck shirt. "Where did you get it?"
"I don't remember," I said honestly, feeling like I wasn't really living up to Mrs. Maddox's expectations of her son's girlfriend.
Mrs. Maddox laughed a high, bell-like laugh, smoothing down her own shirt. "I forget where I buy my clothes all the time," she said. "I get them from too many places to keep track of them all!"
"Of course, me too," I said, grimacing.
Clare nudged me then and narrowed her eyes at me, but I just stared right back at her until she rolled her eyes and turned back around.
"We'd love to meet your parents, Evelyn," said Mr. Maddox, finally settling down Peter and turning back to his food. He grabbed a roll from the bread basket on the lazy Susan in the center of the table and began to eat it. "Cameron said they were out of town?"
I began running my fingers through my hair; then, deciding that wasn't the best thing to do at the table, began twirling pasta around my fork. "My dad is," I said. "My mom is...well, she passed away in a car crash."
I figured if Cameron already knew the truth (or at least half of it), his parents might as well know, too.
"Oh, Evelyn!" breathed Mrs. Maddox, setting down her fork, her hands fluttering. "I'm so sorry. That's awful!"
She most likely would have fawned over me even more had Cameron not cleared his throat and declared, "This chicken's really good, Mom. What'd you put in it?"
This gave me a break while Mrs. Maddox went on about her chicken recipe; Cameron squeezed my hand under the table, smiling at me softly. He wasn't trying to feel bad for me, or trying to be overly sympathetic. He was just trying to be there for me, and that meant more than he could ever know.
As I chewed, I looked around the dining room. Cream lace curtains hung from the windows, which overlooked the manicured gardens in the spacious front yard. There was a tall table on the far side of the room with an arrangement on white roses, as well as with various glass figurines and trinkets-all of which looked very delicate. I made a mental note to keep Maddie, who was eyeing them longingly, away from them.
The chandelier that hung from the wall was enormous; it looked made of crystals and dazzled with the light of what seemed to be a hundred candles but were really bulbs. It was the only light in the room, but it illuminated the entire area perfectly.
I glanced down from the chandelier onto my linen napkin, squeezed it in my hands, and crossed my legs at the ankles to keep them from jiggling.
"So, Evelyn, you're a junior, right?" asked Mr. Maddox as he reached for yet another buttered roll and began dipping it in his marinara sauce.
"Yes, sir," I said, bringing my attention back to the conversation. "But I'm young for my age. I'm still only sixteen."
Too young to be taking care of my two sisters like they were my daughters. Too young to be managing a house and bills all by myself. Too young to have gone through what I have.
But it was all my fault. None of this would have happened if I'd been watching the road that dark night. My parents would still be here-maybe even sitting at this table with the Maddox family, laughing and socializing.
"Smart for your age, too, so I hear," he said, winking at me and casting a conspiratorial glance at Cameron (who now looked completely mortified). "My son says you're a genius."
"I'm not half as smart as he is," I assured him truthfully. "That's why he's my tutor."
Mrs. Maddox smiled. "Such a sweet little love story," she said. "I'm so glad you got to know each other. You wouldn't have had any classes together, so you wouldn't have met any other way." She sighed and clasped her hands together so that her diamond ring on her left hand sparkled in the light from the chandelier. "So perfect."
"Absolutely," I agreed, my smile coming across more as a frown. I straightened it out and tried to fix the situation by taking Cameron's hand.
He rubbed his thumb across the side of my hand thoughtfully, as if he were contemplating something very grave. When he tilted his head to look at me, it was with the oddest expression I'd ever seen-as if he could see right through my cover.
I coughed a little and then distracted myself with drinking some water, nearly knocking over the glass and spilling it over the intricate tablecloth.
"You two must relate to each other perfectly," continued Mrs. Maddox, seemingly oblivious to my minor clumsy moment. "You losing your mom, Evelyn, and Cameron losing his parents..."
My water glass came down hard on the tablecloth, so that liquid sloshed over the side and actually did sprinkle the white fabric. "Excuse me?" I asked. "Aren't you his parents?"
When I glanced over at Cameron, I saw that his eyes were wide and his mouth was half-open, as if he'd started to say something but had lost his voice. "Cameron?" I asked warily.
"Cameron," said Mr. Maddox, though in a completely different tone-he sounded almost as if he were scolding his son (but Cameron wasn't his son?). "You mean to say you haven't even told your own girlfriend...?"
"Cameron?" I asked again, my voice getting lower.
And yet Cameron was still sitting, frozen, his fork halfway up to his mouth. He looked paler than his tan skin, darkened from hours on the soccer field, should have possibly allowed.
Finally, he stood, scraped back his chair, and set his napkin on the table. "May I be excused for a few minutes?" he asked.
Mr. Maddox looked as if he were about to protest, but Mrs. Maddox nodded. Before I could get another word out, Cameron had ruffled Peter's hair and left the dining room, disappearing down a hallway that led away from the kitchen.
This left me sitting in a very awkward position, so I took a bite from my bread and pretended to eat. My chewing seemed like a gunshot in the stone-silent room.
"I shouldn't have said anything," said Mrs. Maddox quietly. She'd set down her fork and was not touching her food. Finally, she pushed back her own chair and said, "I'm going to go talk to him."
She left the same way Cameron had, and I busied myself with cutting Maddie's chicken while I waited, my stomach flopping uncomfortably. A few minutes later, Cameron returned, some of the color back to his face but still looking utterly in shock.
"Evelyn?" he asked me, clearing his throat a little. "Can we talk for a few? Alone?"
I took in his expression: uncertain, afraid, and completely taken by surprise. Setting down my bread, I stood and crossed the room until I was in front of him. "It seems like we should," I said, a little more harshly than I'd planned.
Cameron took my hand, though I almost wanted to pull away, and led me up onto the top of his house, where the rooftop was flat enough that we could sit on it. He stared at his hands for a few seconds before glancing up at me, his forehead wrinkled and his eyebrows furrowed.
"Evelyn," he said, "I've been keeping secrets from you, too."