Chapter 9
“Are you ever going to beat up another student again?” Marissa laughed loudly as we exited the school. Detention takes a lot out of you, even though you don’t get in trouble for sleeping. I know because it seems as if everyone around me was in lala land.
I shook my head, taking my hair out of its ponytail. I threw it into a messy bun, not bothering to donate a care to the nice and neat hair foundation. “Can we just go shopping?”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” Marissa grinned.
“I have no other choice, seeing as you drove to my house at five thirty in the morning, and in order to get me up, you ring my doorbell and pound on my door," I snapped.
She grinned. “You shouldn’t have told me that you weren’t going to come shoe shopping last night.”
“But that doesn’t give you the right to wake me up like you’re the police. I nearly fell down the stairs rushing to get the door!” I retorted.
She shrugged. “You were sleeping in sweatpants, which technically is a crime in our seventy degree weather.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t judge me.” Earlier, she explained that while I was in detention, she had followed her brother back to their house and told him to get in her car. He easily complied, mainly because Ethel is at the house and he doesn’t want to face her alone, I’m presuming. So for the last twenty or so minutes, he’s been stranded in the parking lot without a car, just waiting beside Marissa’s. I doubt he knows that we’re going shopping; he probably wouldn’t have gotten into the car without a problem if he had known. He mustn’t have known that I was going to be here, too.
“I won’t, as long as you get in my car," she replied and I noticed her brother sitting on her car. Marissa seemed to notice this too because she gasped. “Get off my car, you idiot!”
In response, Noah didn’t look up from his phone which was on his lap. Instead, he raised his left hand and gave Marissa the middle finger. She gasped. “Kenna is right here!”
Noah lifted his right hand and held up his middle finger, and I’m guessing that one finger salute was for me. “Throw your hands in the air; wave ‘em like you just don’t care!" Marissa called with a grin on her face.
Noah began waving his arms around before stuffing his phone into his pocket and hopping off of the car’s trunk. “Took you guys long enough.”
We still didn’t talk about my confession to Marissa but I have a feeling that she told him. We piled into the car, me in the front passenger’s seat, Marissa in the driver’s seat, and Noah in the middle seat at the back of the car. Marissa told me that I could control the music and I smiled, happy that I wouldn’t have to listen to Justin Bieber throughout the whole car ride to whatever shoe store Marissa dragged us to.
I was flipping through the stations when a familiar tune greeted my ears. Marissa nearly squealed and Noah muttered an annoyed, Dear God, from the back seat.
It feels like it was just yesterday, we were in love…
Bad by The Cab blasted throughout the car while Marissa and I sang along to the song. She was tapping on the steering wheel while I pretended to play the drums and the guitar, switching back and forth from each instrument. I’ve always wanted to know how to play the guitar; the drums, not so much. Once the song ended and we reached a red light, Noah unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned through the area between the two front seats and tampered with the radio. Another familiar song began playing and Marissa groaned. “As if I don’t have to hear this a thousand times at home; now you play it my car.”
Green Day began playing and I couldn’t complain. My father used to listen to this music, so it would always be playing when I entered the house after school. I sat back, deciding not to change the station.
<<>><<>>
“You have to get the gold ones," Marissa tried to convince me. I stared at each shoe on my feet. On my left foot was a golden high heel and on my right was a gray wedge.
“I can’t walk in heels,” I told her, biting my lip.
She yanked the gray wedge off of my foot before grabbing my ankle in a death grip. She shoved the other golden heel on my foot before forcing me to stand up. I gripped her arm tightly, my ankles wobbling. “Now walk.”
I struggled to walk, my ankles threatening to give out at any moment. After a few moments, I managed to walk better, but not well enough. “Can we find gold wedges? Or something shorter? And preferably less lethal?”
Marissa groaned. “But those are so cute.”
“I know, and I’m going to be so cute lying in a coffin because I will die wearing these,” I replied, plopping down onto the small ottoman and taking the deathtraps off my feet. I was putting them away in the box, already planning to soak my feet in ice when I get back home.
“How about these?” my eyes looked up to a pair of heels, not as high, but still a bit too high for my liking. But the design was beautiful. They had multiple metallic gold straps running across the foot and around the ankles. The ankle was encased, though, and had a small zipper in the back.
“Yeah,” I replied, not even bothering to try them on. They were sixty dollars, which was a bit pricy for a pair of heels- especially because I’m only going to wear them once and stuff them in the back of my closet. No matter how pretty they are, I have no other occasions to wear them to, so why keep them? Because they’re pretty? Good enough for me. I waited for Marissa to purchase her shoes.
Marissa already decided on her shoes, which were cute white stilettos, which I would have died in the moment I stepped into them. I didn’t comment about their height, mainly because I didn’t want to discourage her from buying them. The girl is already around 5’9” or so, and the heels boosted her until she was about 6’0.” She said that her date is 6’4,” so it doesn’t matter much. I just nodded in agreement.
Marissa dragged me towards the bookstore, where Noah told us he was going to be waiting. He was easy to spot the moment we stepped into the store, mainly because his tall figure was hunched over as his elbows rested on the bookshelf and he held a book in his hand. His nose was wrinkled slightly and I’m guessing the book wasn’t good, or worth his time. He quickly closed it and put it back on the shelf. “Noah!”
He looked up, mumbling something under his breath before walking over towards us, his hands tucked into his sweater pocket; even though it was seventy degrees out, he wore a sweater to school and didn’t bother to take it off. We all walked out towards the car, my thoughts clouding my head. Tomorrow is the gala. I’m going with Noah.
We got into the car and drove out of the parking lot. “Are you spending the night?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m going to go home and clean up a bit. I’ve been avoiding that job for the last few weeks. I might have to go grocery shopping, too.”
Marissa nodded. “But you’re coming over to get ready tomorrow, right?”
I bobbed my head. “What time should I go?”
“Be at my house by four, shower at yours so I can get to work immediately,” she told me.
“I didn’t realize I was a project,” I snorted.
She rolled her eyes. “I just want to do your hair, your nails, and your makeup," she smiled.
“Why? It’s a four hour occasion," I furrowed my eyebrows.
She shrugged. “It’ll be fun.”
“For you,” I muttered under my breath.
She rolled her eyes at me. “My brother is going to have fun, too. Right, Noah?”
He scoffed. “That’s impossible.”
She frowned before glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. “Then why did you say yes if you’re so set on the idea of it being no fun?”
He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I say yes?”
“Well, you said no to Chloe last year,” Marissa responded.
“That’s because Chloe is an airhead.” He stated casually.
“So, are you calling Kenna smart?” Marissa grinned. She’s trying way too hard to get Noah to compliment me.
“Smarter than Chloe, which isn’t much," Noah indicated.
“But it’s enough to get you to agree to go to my mom’s party with her?” Marissa questioned.
Noah shrugged. “We have an agreement. We aren’t going to be hanging out there; I’m just an entryway, and she’s just stepping through me.”
“So what are you going to do while you’re there?” Marissa frowned.
He shrugged again. “Listen to music? Read? Avoid your family at all costs?”
Marissa snorted at the latter. “I’d do that too if I could.”
I’m grateful that the topic is off of me. “But why did you agree to go with Kenna if you aren’t going to talk to her there? What’s the point in that? You said no to Chloe, what’s the difference?”
He sighed. “I was embarrassed to be seen with Chloe. Everyone knows she’s an airhead who drinks practically every weekend.”
“So you won’t be ashamed to be seen with Kenna?” Marissa asked. I felt like reaching over and duct-taping her mouth shut. She's overdoing it.
He wrinkled his nose. “That’s if she can manage to not embarrass herself for four simple hours.”
I frowned. “I rarely embarrass myself.”
“Oh, so that’s just a part of your personality? Great,” Noah muttered, slumping back in his seat.
“You guys have to do the couples dance! That’d be so cute!” Marissa squealed.
I decided to save Noah from looking like a bad guy, and ultimately saving my ego all at the same time. “I don’t dance.”
“I know you can,” Marissa retorted.
“Not a chance. No,” I sang, quoting High School Musical 2.
Marissa snorted. “You’re such a nerd.”
I shrugged. “I know.”
I went to turn the music on Justin Timberlake was playing. I groaned aloud but Marissa was singing along so I let it play through. Once the song ended, they began taking requests. One person requested Marianas Trench and Stutter started to play. “Who is this?”
I turned to stare at her before shaking my head and turning the song up, a small smile peeking at my lips. Halfway through the song, while I was looking out of the window and smiling, Noah reached his hand between the two seats and changed the song. I smacked his hand before turning the song back. My eyes widened slightly when I realized that I just smacked him but once I glanced at him, all he did was glare at my hand, which was resting on the radio.
I smirked as I sat back, listening to the song finish. As we reached my house, I thanked Marissa and got out of the car. I took my school bag and my shoe bag with me as I walked towards my house. The second I stepped in, I knew something was different. Someone had been here.
The small throw rug that was normally in front of the door to collect the dirt from our shoes was crumbled, as if someone had slipped on it. I was immediately on alert as I placed my bags down. If someone were in the house, they heard me close the door when I first stepped in- before I realized that I had company. My breathing hitched as I clutched my hands into fists, ready for a fight. I looked around for a weapon and saw the broom. I grabbed it quickly, placing it in my hands in a defensive manner as I tried to creep through the house. There was a blanket on the couch along with a few pillows as if someone tried to take a nap.
If they tried to cover their tracks, they did a very crappy job. I heard shuffling in the kitchen and I crept around the corner, busting through the door only to see my mother standing there with a small tub of ice cream in her hands. “Surprise!”
Her eyes fell to the broomstick in my hands and she furrowed her eyebrows. “You assume someone is in the house and you grab a broomstick?”
I shrugged, dropping it on the floor before picking it up and placing it against the wall, after receiving her death glare. “My dearest apologies for not going after the largest kitchen knife to fight off my mother.”
“What if I was a burglar?” she asked.
I snorted. “Oh yeah, because our couch just so happens to be the hotspot for burglar naps.”
She encased me in a hug after rolling her eyes. “I missed you so much!”
“Why are you home so early?” I asked once she released me. I had a large smile on my face as she grabbed me a tub of ice cream from the freezer. I’m guessing she went shopping during her short time here. She’s been here for about six or seven hours, while I was here for practically a month, yet I never went shopping for food- despite my dire need for some.
“The last signing was cancelled because of a snowstorm," she shrugged as she plopped onto the counter. This, ladies and gentlemen, is my mother. Low and behold Penelope West, or Penelope Arrington, if you want to call her by her maiden name, which also happens to be her pen name. Her glasses were perched cheerily on her nose, covering her hazel eyes. I’m told that I’m a spitting image of her. “So where were you? School ends at 2:25; you usually get home at 2:45.”
“I had detention,” I shrugged and she looked at the clock.
“Until 7:30?” she questioned.
I shrugged again. “I went shopping.”
“Alone?” she asked me and I shook my head, shoving a spoonful of chocolate ice cream into my mouth. “Who did you go with?”
“Noah and Marissa, we went shoe shopping. Well, Marissa and I did. Noah was busy at the bookstore,” I told her.
“Sisters?” she furrowed her eyebrows and I let out a laugh, choking on my ice cream. Once I recovered, I started to chuckle. Noah would have a fit at the fact that my mother assumed he was a female. Once my laughter turned to silent shrieks, my mother shook her head. “I guess not.”
“Noah is a boy,” I told her once I caught my breath; my ice cream was beside me as I held my stomach.
My mother furrowed her eyebrows. “A boy? As in a little kid? Why were you shopping with a little kid? An even better question, why was he alone in a bookstore?”
I shook my head. “No, he’s, like, seventeen.”
“A boy that likes reading?” she asked me. Ever since I was a little girl, I always told my mother that my future boyfriend has to like reading. There would be no exceptions. I had very few crushes in elementary school, mainly because none of the boys read, and those who did read snacked on their snot as if it were popcorn. My father always threatened to write a book about how he would kill my future boyfriend if he were to hurt me, seeing as I was incessantly talking about how he would have to like reading.
“I know! That’s what I said!” I exclaimed, taking a large spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.
My mother’s eyebrows shot upward as she grinned. “Ah, this is why you’ve been out on weekends.”
“No, I’ve been at Marissa’s house,” I rolled my eyes.
“And are they friends?” she asked and I shrugged.
“Siblings, or half-siblings, if you want to be specific,” I told her.
My mother struggled to swallow her ice cream, her eyes wide. “So you’ve been spending the night at his house?”
“No, no, no. Marissa and I are friends and he just happens to be her brother! We barely talk, in fact, he’s a jerk! But he’s bringing me to his stepmother’s gala tomorrow, so he isn’t as bad as he was at first! He’s still a jerk though, but—.”
“What?” my mother asked. “Start from the beginning.”
So I did: I told my mother how I met Marissa and I explained how I became her designated driver. I excluded the part about getting drunk and a part of me was guilty but I quickly overlooked it in order to finish out the story. My mother kept butting in to ask questions, so I finished the story in about an hour. We ended up moving to the living room where we sat on the couch with the blanket over our legs.
“Why is he so mean?” my mother’s nose was wrinkled and I shrugged.
“Marissa says he has a rough past, so I’m assuming it has something to do with that,” I told my mom.
She nodded. “So you’re going to a gala tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Ethel River’s gala.”
“With Noah?” she asked, a smile on her lips and I nodded. “Did you ever think about telling me?”
I pursed my lips. “I mean, we could never talk for long on the phone without time interfering. Either you get tired or I get tired, or you have to go to a signing or I have to go to school. It was rare that we could talk for more than five minutes and whenever we got the chance, it was about my detention. If I would have told you, you would have had so many questions and we wouldn’t have had enough time to discuss it.”
My mother nodded in agreement. “So all of this happened in the span of a month?”
I nodded. “Give or a take a bit.”
My mother laughed. “I remember when I met your father.”
I stared at her, waiting for her to continue. She had a sad smile on her face as she stared down at her lap. I could tell that she was in another world. It was rare that we talked about my father so I decided to let her continue, if she wanted to. “We were both sophomores in college and he had a girlfriend.”
I nearly gasped. I didn’t know my father had a girlfriend when he met my mother. “She was the captain of the debate team, while I was just joining. Her name was Cara Darson. She didn’t like me, mainly because on the first day, I bumped into her and she spilled all of her papers. Your father, the flirt he was, helped me up before he went over to help his girlfriend. As you can assume, she did not like that very much at all.”
I can’t imagine my father as a flirt and I really don’t want to. “She saw me as a threat and tried getting me kicked off of the debate team. Your father stepped in and told her that she was over-reacting and being extremely immature. She decided to back off and I was in the clear for a few weeks. Your father and I wouldn’t talk, but we would smile at each other. One day, he missed class and asked me for the notes. I told him that they were back at my dorm. He had basketball practice and told me to meet him in the gym once I got the notes, so I did.”
“His girlfriend was in the gym and the moment she saw me, she went off. Mind you, I took four years of kick boxing, so don’t be surprised at this next part. She came at me and slapped me, so I hit her," she told me.
The idea of my mother hitting someone shocked me. “You hit her?” I questioned and my mother nodded. “As in causing pain to someone else?”
My mother nodded again. “I wasn’t proud of it but that’s what I felt was right in the moment. Now that I think about it, I could have gotten in trouble for hitting her because I took kick boxing for four years! I could have killed her! But I didn’t, and the guys in the gym were too shocked to say anything. I dropped the notes and ran out of the gym.”
"The next day, classes were cancelled because of a parade- which I wasn’t going to attend. Your father showed up at my dorm and my roommate, who knew about the incident in the gym the previous day, left. I hated her because of it, but now that I think about it- I’m grateful," he told me.
“Well, he didn’t bother to beat around the bush. He told me that his girlfriend broke up with him. I couldn’t believe it, well, mostly because her mouth was swollen because of my hit but I mean, who would break up with your father? He was gorgeous and—.”
I nodded, waving my hands around. “Okay, mom, continue with the story.”
She offered me a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry; I just loved him so much. I still love him, and I miss him.” I nodded, giving her a sad smile. She quickly shook her head before continuing the story. “Anyway, before I could stop myself, I told him that he was too good for her anyway. The way he looked at me when I said that, I knew I was a goner.”
“Next thing you know, five years later, I’m pregnant with you. Two years later, I’m walking down the aisle," she was smiling sadly as she stared at a picture of my family that was hanging on the wall.
“He would be so proud of you," she told me.
I nodded. “I know.”
We were silent for a few moments before my mother looked at me, her cheeks wet from recently shed tears. “That was pretty arrogant.”
I rolled my eyes but hugged my mother. “I’ve missed you, mom.”
“I missed you, too, sweetie.”
<<>><<>>
Rather than going to straight to sleep like I normally would’ve, I walked towards the grand piano in the family room, which was abandoned about three years ago, after my father’s death. My father was the one that decided that we use our empty room as a family room, rather than a study. He filled it with all of the instruments he could play, and whenever we were home at the same time, he would try and teach me how to play. He successfully taught me how to play piano. I liked it so much that I enrolled in classes my freshmen year, hoping that he’d be just excited as I was. As I anticipated, he was. He congratulated me by buying me a keyboard for my room, despite the fact that we had a grand piano in the family room.
When he died, I wanted to quit playing the piano because every time I glanced at the keyboard, I felt sadness course through me. After a bit of encouragement from my mother, I started to play piano again. Ever since, I haven’t stopped. It’s the only thing I will have of my father forever- the skill and love for piano.
I sat down on the stool in front of the grand piano, allowing my finger to run over the keys, expecting them to be dusty. My mother’s been in here today, probably admiring my father’s instrument collections. It ranges from trumpets to guitars to pianos and violins. He never had the chance to teach me how to play guitar, mainly because every time he would offer- I would end up asking him to play so many songs that we’d run out of time.
I pressed down on the familiar keys, allowing my fingers to run across them. The loud sound reverberated throughout the room; the familiar sound was joy to my ears. I placed my fingers on the correct keys before starting out softly, growing louder as I continued playing. I was a confident pianist; it was one of the only things I was good at.
“You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?” my mother’s voice didn’t stop me from playing. I continued, nodding in response. She sat down beside me, watching as my fingers stretched across the keys. She sat silently, just watching me play.
<>><<>>
“Ow, you’re hurting me!” I squealed as Marissa yanked the brush through my hair. It dried on my way here, thanks to the nice weather outside.
Marissa had a determined look on her face when I glanced at her in the mirror. “You’re going to snap my neck, Marissa!”
She sighed as she ran the brush through my hair one last time, ridding it of its tangles. She sprayed it with a heat protector before plugging in the curling wand. “You’re going to look so pretty.”
I grumbled absentmindedly. “Yeah, whatever.” My hand was at the base of my neck, rubbing away the pain Marissa’s stupid brush caused.
“Noah said that he thinks you’re going to look nice, too. Well, he didn’t exactly say it," she shrugged as she began laying my dress out.
I sighed. “What did he say then?”
“Well, I said, ‘Kenna is going to look so pretty, don’t you think?’ And that’s when he shrugged and said, ‘pass the milk.’ So he thinks you’re going to look pretty,” Marissa gushed as I stared at her with an eyebrow raised.
“I can feel my ego inflating,” I exclaimed in a flat tone as she grabbed a few strands of my hair, twisting them around the curling wand.
She glared at me in the mirror. “It’s Noah. He could have snorted and said something rude but he didn’t.”
“Maybe he was just tired and didn’t have any comebacks flowing through his brain,” I muttered as I fidgeted in my seat.
“It’s Noah. He’s always tired and he always has comebacks, no matter what the situation is," she told me. “But he didn’t say anything, because he doesn’t mind you.”
“I’m almost positive that he hates me,” I told her.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “He just doesn’t understand why you’re nice to him, and why you treat him like a civil being.”
“You mean why I don’t cower in fear at the sight of him?” I asked, sighing quietly.
Marissa nodded. “Yeah or why you don’t go silent when he walks into the room, like Chloe and Dana do.”
I shook my head. “I don’t see why they would. He isn’t a murderer.”
“Just keep being yourself around him, okay?” she asked me. “He’ll warm up to you sooner or later.”
“Myself? I get annoying and whiny, especially when I’m bored,” I told her.
“And hungry,” she muttered under her breath. I glared at her and she laughed. “It’s the truth!”
I sighed, knowing she’s right. “Yeah, whatever. But I would annoy the life out of him.”
She shrugged. “Annoying is good; it shows that you’re not on edge.”
“But I am when I’m around him,” I told her.
“I don’t think it’s because you’re scared of him," she told me, wiggling her eyebrows. “I think it’s because you like him.”
I went to turn and smack her but she yanked the curling wand, causing me to screech. My hair was practically being ripped out of my skull. “Then again, he’s probably used to annoying behavior.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, once she slowly released my hair from the curling wand.
“He’s around you all the time,” I responded, smirking in satisfaction as she gave me a flat look.
“Just be yourself. Don’t be scared of him, he won’t hit you, if that’s what you’re scared of. The worst thing he can do is glare. Nag him, bug him, just show him a good time.” She’s giving me the big sister speech; even though I’m 99% sure she’s the younger sister.
“Nagging and bugging him is showing him a good time?” I asked her. My eyebrows rose.
“It’s better than sitting up straight, paranoid, and silent. Everyone treats him like a freak when he’s done nothing wrong," she ranted. “The only thing he did was come to our school in eighth grade and they all ganged up on him.”
“I’ll try my best to be myself,” I smiled at her. “And if it makes you feel any better, I don’t see him as a freak. I see him as a cute boy with an attitude problem.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Are you forgetting that he’s my brother?”
“Your super-hot brother?” I joked and she winced, going to cover her ears. “Your gorgeous, handsome, extremely attractive brother?” I twirled a piece of my uncurled, lifeless hair between my fingers, batting my eyelashes excessively.
She glared at me, turning me around in the mirror and ripping the hair that I was twirling from my hands. She wrapped it around the curling wand. “No, my brother that is down the hall.”
“Can he hear us?” I asked her, my eyes widening.
She shook her head as a smirk made its way onto her face. “No, he’s making us a snack.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
She laughed, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “But I heard you.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You wouldn’t. You cant!”
She nodded, cackling wildly. “I would, and I’d have fun doing it.”
“Marissa!” I exclaimed, frowning.
“Yes?” She asked, grabbing her phone. “Can you repeat the last part? Was it ‘your gorgeous, handsome, extremely attractive brother?’ Or was it ‘your gorgeous, extremely handsome, attractive brother?’ Oh, it was the first one! I’ll make sure I get that right, can’t feed Noah false information.”
I went to smack the phone from her hand. “Marissa! Stop!”
She held her phone in her hands as she smiled at me. “Do you promise to be yourself around my brother tonight?” I clenched my teeth as I nodded. “I only accept verbal replies when making deals, so you’ll have to say it aloud.”
“Yes, Marissa, I promise to be myself around your brother tonight,” I told her.
“I’m going to ask him if he had a good time with you. If he says no, that you were acting like everyone else, I’m going to tell him everything you just said. If he says yes, then I’ll delete it from my memory and I’ll never bring it up again," she told me, smiling triumphantly as I stared at her, my mouth parted slightly.
“Y-you can’t do that! I was only kidding!” I told her. “I didn’t really mean what I said! I only meant that he was cute!”
“Well, you made the mistake of saying it. I thought you wouldn’t slip up and give me something to blackmail you with. Guess I was wrong," she winked, laughing evilly.
About twenty minutes later, she finished curling my hair and was working on her own when Noah called us downstairs. “I didn’t know he cooks. I just thought he liked baking.”
She shrugged. “He cooks better than me.”
“Anyone cooks better than you,” I scoffed and she elbowed me. My hair was loosely tied back so it won’t interfere with my makeup.
“You can’t," she retorted.
I shrugged. “I don’t need to know how to cook. I can order take out just fine,” I responded. She rolled her eyes before motioning towards the door with the curling wand.
“Go get the food before it gets cold," she told me and I sighed before standing up. She continued to curl her hair as I stepped outside into the hallway.
I walked down the steps and into the kitchen, where Noah stood in front of the stove. I was just now noticing his height rather than the food sitting on the kitchen island. He was six foot, or taller, no less. I wonder how tall exactly. “I made fruit salad and nachos.”
I furrowed my eyebrows. What an odd combination. I just stood there and he turned around and placed three plates of nachos on the island, beside the fruit salad bowls. He looked at me, or past me- whatever you’d like to call it, before grabbing a tray and putting it on the island. Grabbing two bowls of fruit salad (with spoons dug into them); he put them on the tray, along with two plates of nachos. He placed two water bottles onto the tray and motioned for me to grab it. I awkwardly lifted the tray, muttering a quiet thanks.
I went to walk away but he cleared his throat. I assumed he just needed to clear his throat but I went to take another step and he did it again, louder this time, I realized that it was probably on purpose. I did it one more time just to make sure and he sighed. “Should I just swallow sandpaper?”
I awkwardly turned around to see him sitting on a stool at the island. “If that helps, then be my guest.”
“Will you just sit down?” he asked me and I slowly walked over towards the island, placing the tray atop of it before taking a seat. His fingers were tapping against the tabletop as he stared past me.
“I’m sitting,” I stated. My mind wandered back to what I had said earlier as I glanced at his eyes for a millisecond. My face was probably as red as a tomato. I hate how easily I blush.
“I can see,” he sardonically replied. “I just wanted to…”
“To?” I continued, shaking my head as if asking him to continue. At least he didn’t comment about my red face.
He stared down at the bowl of fruit salad, moving it around slightly as his nose was wrinkled. He bit down on his bottom lip before letting out a sigh. “I want to apologize.”
My eyebrows rose up in disbelief. He wants to apologize? I looked around the room to see if this apology was directed towards someone else, anyone else. I came up short and turned my attention back to him. He sucked his teeth before giving me a flat look. “I’m capable of having human emotions, you know.”
“What are you even apologizing for?” I questioned.
He let out a guttural sound, which was most likely a groan. “For calling you pathetic.”
“Just for calling me pathetic? Not your behavior towards me? Not for soaking my clothes in water? Or waking me up to the sound of an air horn?” I questioned.
He shrugged. “Just for calling you pathetic.” I swear the corner of his lips quirked upwards before he wiped it away, yet again. I let out an inaudible sigh. “But I shouldn’t have called you pathetic. I didn’t know the whole story.”
I sighed, resting my head in my hands. How embarrassing. “Marissa told you?”
He made a sound of confirmation. “Spencer is a...an idiot.” It was obvious that he was going to swear. I wonder why he stopped himself. I don’t remember saying any-oh gosh, my drunken ranting. Can I slam my face on this island now or later?
“Just great,” I muttered before standing up. “Now let me get this food to her before she throws a fit.”
“That’s a good idea," Noah noted. I nodded awkwardly before walking up the stairs. Just as I was about to kick at the door, it swung open. Marissa gave me a confused look before a slow grin spread across her face.
“You’re blushing," she noted.
I furrowed my eyebrows. “Am I? Hm, I didn’t notice.”
I placed the food down onto one of the clear spaces on her dresser before grabbing a plate of nachos and placing a cheese coated chip into my mouth. I sighed in delight before I continued to stuff the chips into my mouth. Nice job, Noah. “Why?”
“Huh?” I asked, my mouth full of chips. Marissa shook her head.
“Why are you blushing?” she asked, a smirk on her lips.
“Your brother apologized to me, no biggie.” I shrugged awkwardly, a small smile appearing on my face. If she asks, it’s because the nachos are good. I can appreciate a guy who can cook, definitely.
She stared at me. “For what?”
“Calling me pathetic,” I nonchalantly nodded.
“He called you pathetic? When?” Marissa questioned.
“When he demanded I tell you about the whole entire drunken party scenario, but he apologized. So it’s okay,” I told her.
She nodded, glancing at me. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I got over it,” I told her. “My mom wants to meet you guys.”
“Really?” I was glad that I successfully changed the subject, especially because Marissa would probably yell at Noah once they returned from the gala tonight.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m assuming you guys will be doing something for Thanksgiving, so I was wondering if you’d like to come over my house at some point after.”
“Yeah, the day before Thanksgiving break is my last volleyball game of the season. I was hoping you would come," she told me.
I nodded. “Yeah, of course. But isn’t this season ending a bit late?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but we started late because our coach was injured for the first month of school.” I nodded in response.
“So you guys will come over the week after Thanksgiving vacation?” I asked her.
Marissa grinned. After I sent her a text that my mother was back home, she responded that she wanted to meet her. “Wait. Did you say you guys? As in plural?”
I felt my face heating up yet again as I nodded, just as my face cooled down. “Yeah, she asked where I was yesterday when I got home and I told her that I was shopping for shoes for the gala. She asked who I went with and I said you and Noah. She thought Noah was a girl.”
Marissa snorted. “Why?”
“She thinks I’m not good enough for guy company,” I joked. She sent me a curious look and I rolled my eyes. “I’m kidding. I just didn’t tell her about him before. She was a bit freaked out when she realized that I spent the night here when a teenage guy was present, without a parent in the house.”
Marissa laughed and I continued. “All thoughts were erased when I told her that Noah and I aren’t really close.”
“Yet,” Marissa cackled and I threw a piece of pineapple at her. Surprisingly, she caught it and smirked victoriously before eating it. I frowned but didn’t bother to toss another fruit.
<<>><<>>
“We have ten minutes before we have to leave! Hurry up and put your dress on!” Marissa scolded me. I sighed before walking towards the bathroom with my dress and shoes. Once I managed to get into the dress, I allowed my hair to fall from the loose ribbon. It fell over my shoulders and I parted it the way Marissa told me to earlier. I slipped into the heels and squealed as I almost fell. I should have gotten flats.
My makeup was nice. Because of my clear skin, (Marissa said she was jealous of it) she didn’t have to put any cover up on- which I was grateful for. My mother used to say that it felt like her face was suffocating when she had it on. I grabbed two sticks of chewing gum and stuffed them into my mouth, chewing them rapidly, hoping my breath smells good. I would brush my teeth again, but I don’t have my toothbrush.
Marissa made me put on my own makeup, though. She guided me, telling me how much mascara I should put on and whatnot. I did layer on the mascara, though, which wasn’t too bad. She said it just made my eyelashes look thicker, so it wasn’t really a problem. She also made me put on eyeliner, which was easier than I assumed aside from the fear of poking myself in the eye. However, she put the gray eye shadow on, with tints of gold. At first, I thought it would look bad but it didn’t. It looked better than I thought it would. She went with a simple lip balm for my lips, which I was appreciative of.
When I exited the bathroom, Marissa was looking in the hallway mirror- which I didn’t notice they had until now. “Noah’s starting the car for you guys, I packed your purse.” She stuffed a black purse into my hands, catching me off guard. I managed to take it without falling.
She turned around and grinned at me. “As expected, you look great.”
“Thank you,” I returned the grin. “You do, too.”
I felt pretty, which wasn’t common. It felt good to feel confident. Aside from my wobbly ankles, I walked with confidence, but not too much to make me seem arrogant. When we walked down the stairs, I almost tripped twice while Marissa was practically running marathons in hers. Once we exited the house, I felt my confidence drop once I caught sight of Noah’s back. “Wait, who is that?”
I noticed Noah talking to a guy from the football team. I recognized him because of his monstrous size; with his build, it would be a crime to not be on the football team. “Eric.”
I nodded, watching Noah listen to whatever it was the guy had to say. It was obvious that Noah didn’t have many cares for whatever the guy was talking about. I had a feeling it was about football because he pretended to catch a ball. Noah had all black on, a tuxedo, or so it seemed. I think he has a gray shirt underneath, in order to match my dress, and his tie is gold.
Eric pointed in our direction and I quickly turned, waiting for Marissa to lock the door. Once she did, she stood up straighter and was at least 7 inches taller than me. While I stand at a simple five foot five, thanks to the heels, she’s now six feet tall. When I arrived earlier, I complained that I’d look like an ant beside her so she broke out the measuring sticks. Turns out, I’m shorter than I thought I was. I thought I was 5’3” but it turns out that I’m only 5’2.” And that is without shoes. I sighed loudly. It stinks being short, especially when all of your friends are taller than you, or your only friend.
“I’m nervous,” I told her.
“Why?” she asked.
“It’s going to be awkward,” I admitted.
She shook her head. “No it won’t, trust me. You’re going to have fun as long as you survive the car ride without me.”
“What? You’re not coming?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “I’m going to ride with Eric.”
“But I thought we were all going together. You can’t do this to me, Marissa.” She grinned in response, walking over and locking lips with Eric. I quickly averted my gaze. Noah turned away too, his face looked disgusted. I felt the same way.
“Eric, meet Kenna. Kenna, meet Eric.” Eric extended his beefy hand, which I shook. He was an overall beefy guy, with his beach blonde hair and large brown eyes; he seems like your average guy from my town. I, personally, do not like beefy guys or guys with blonde hair- but if Marissa does, it’s fine with me.
“Hello.” I smiled and he grinned in response.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, a bit loudly. “You’re Noah’s date?”
I nodded, uncomfortable with the word date. “You’re Marissa’s date?”
He nodded, grinning proudly. Marissa decided to cut in, intertwining her hand with Eric’s. “Well, we better get going or else we’ll be late.”
I got into the passenger’s seat as Noah got into the driver’s seat, starting the car and following Eric’s. “That guy is an idiot.”
I snorted in response. “I don’t know. He seems nice.”
“I don't know what Marissa sees in him. Probably his face,” Noah stated with a shrug.
“He’s not that cute,” I spoke, my nose wrinkled.
“Totally,” Noah nodded jokingly and I smiled.
The rest of the car ride was silent, we didn't speak until the car came to a halt in front of a large building. They even had valet parking, which Noah didn’t seem too comfortable with using. As we got out of the car, I noticed that Eric was having a hard time giving up the keys to his truck but Marissa made him. Marissa’s arm was looped around Eric’s and she motioned for me to do the same to Noah. This girl must be insane. She’s a nut.
She quickly walked over, bringing Eric with her, and forced me to loop my arm around Noah’s using physical force. Noah didn’t complain so I didn’t bother to say anything. We walked towards the entrance and Marissa stated our names to the man checking to see if we were on ‘the list.’ When I thought of a gala, I thought of a party- a low key, family party. I guess Ethel had other things in mind.