CLYDE
This is not what I signed up for when I agreed to lunch with my future stepmom.
I stand uncomfortably as Brooke proudly parades me to her friends from work we ran into a few minutes ago.
"He's a real computer genius," Brooke's saying to one of them. "You should see him with his laptop. He even fixed the lagging problem I had with my Mac."
A chorus of "oohs" and "ahs" comes from the group of ladies and I give them a hesitant smile.
"He must be really smart," one brunette says to Brooke. "I think he's in the same class with my Henry. You go to Northridge, right?"
It takes me a moment to realize the question is directed at me.
"Yeah. I go to Northridge."
Another round of approvals rings from the group.
I thought it was going to be stiff and awkward as hell but just like I'm slowly finding out, Brooke's not who I thought she was. We have a lot in common.
For starters, she loves all John Wick movies, which I also love. She hates anything related to wheat not because she's allergic to it like me but because she has a deep hatred for carbs.
And when the time came to ask the million dollar question about what happened to my mom, she totally flipped the script by smiling at me and telling me that she must be proud of me wherever she is.
No one's ever said that to me. Well, maybe my grandmother but that's a given because she's sweet like that.
"I'll see you on Monday." Brooke waves at them as we resume our walk to the car.
"Why?" I ask once we're inside the car.
"Why what?"
"Why are you bothering with all of this?"
She throws me a quizzical look. "All of what?"
"Caring about any of us. You know you don't need to do any of these bonding family stuff."
"I want to. I don't think it's fair that I marry the man I love without getting to know his children first."
"You will once you get served with divorce papers." I instantly regret it once those words leave my mouth. More so when her face takes a forlorn look. Brooke's been nothing but nice to me the entire afternoon and my stupid self just can't seem to shut off the asshole button.
"Maybe," she says quietly. "But I'm trying here, Clyde and I think that's all that matters. Living in the present, right? There's no use in dwelling in the past or being anxious about what will happen in the future."
She's making a lot more sense than all the therapists I've seen over the years.
"And besides, even if we do get divorced, I think one of my fondest memories about that marriage would be smiling and thinking how I once had a stepson who was allergic to wheat."
That makes me smile. "That'd crack you up, huh?"
"Very." She laughs, backing out of the parking lot. "So, how's school? Any particular teacher you hate or like? Any. . . girlfriend I should know about?"
I groan.
"What?" She chuckles. "I just want to know. Maybe you can invite her over for dinner or something."
"I don't have a girlfriend."
"But there's a girl, right?" she prods.
No use in lying. "Yeah."
"What's her name?"
"Reyna."
* * *
"Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes," Brooke says as we enter the house.
"Uh, Brooke. . ." How do I tell her this? "We don't have dinners."
She frowns. "What do you mean you don't have dinners? You guys don't eat?"
"No." I scratch the back of my head. Fuck, I can't remember being this anxious trying to explain something to someone.
"Then?" Brooke prompts.
"We don't eat together." The admission sounds worse spoken out loud. It's never really bothered me until now.
Sympathy floods Brooke's eyes. "Oh, sweetie."
"It's okay. It's just food." I give her a tight smile as I back away from her. "I'll be in my room."
"I'll send up something for you," she calls as I scramble up the stairs.
I pass by Leo's room and decide to pay him a visit. He's not happy when I barge inside. Good thing he's only seated in his study table.
"The fuck, man?" he asks angrily. "What happened to boundaries?"
"What, you jerking off to some weird hentai porn or something?" I flop on his bed and take out my phone, scrolling through the notifications on it.
"Precisely why you shouldn't barge into somebody's room like that. What the fuck do you want?"
"Some peace and quiet."
"And you couldn't do that in your own room?"
I ignore answering his question. "I had lunch with Brooke today."
"So I've heard and before you continue, I don't give a shit. She's had lunch with each and everyone of us. You're not that special."
That makes me laugh. "I think I like her. She's not like the others."
"And I don't care. Jesus Christ, I'm trying to work on something here. So you better shut up or fucking leave. Highly suggest you go with the second option."
"Okay but serious talk. What do you think she'll introduce to make us bond as a family?"
Dad's past girlfriends have tried to no avail to make us do different stuff in order to strengthen our ties as a family. They all failed and it's not that hard to figure out why.
"I don't know," Leo says. "But I'm banking on family dinners and family game nights. Now, shut up. I have an AP World history test on Monday and you're stressing me out."
"Fine." I roll my eyes and bring the phone back to my face. I'm fairly shocked when I'm met with one particular text message notification.
From Reyna of all people.
Hey
My fingers are on autopilot as I type, Hi
I have a proposition for you
What kind of proposition?
The kind where you get to take me out on that date you've been adamant about
Holy shit. My mood just got a thousand times better. What made you change your mind?
Like I said, I have a proposition
Lets hear it
I'll agree to it if you take me somewhere first
Where?
That's not important. Do we have a deal?
I mull over it before bringing up the keypad and typing, Call me
She wastes no time in doing that and I answer on the first ring.
"Sounds like you just want to use me, Sugarcake."
"It's not. . ." There's rustling in the background, like she's settling back on her pillows. "Well, maybe it is but just a little bit. I promise it'll just be a minute. I need to get something and then we'll go wherever you want us to go to."
"Where exactly are you planning to go?"
A pause. "Say we have a deal and I'll tell you."
"We have a deal."
"Promise?"
I sigh. "Promise."
"Queens."
Queens? "Meeting up with somebody?"
There's a bit of hesitation from her before she answers, "No, I just need to get something."
"Okay and after that you'll be one hundred percent on board with the date?"
"A hundred percent."
"Okay."
"For real?"
"I would never say no to a pretty face like yours."
That makes her laugh nonetheless and I relish the sound of it. "Save the compliments for the actual date. Oh, and you have to come over for a screening from my dad."
"Your dad? You trying to kill me or something?"
"It's just a few questions," she says. "He'll only let me go if he's sure you'll follow his conditions to a T."
"Yeah, I don't really have a good track record with dads."
"Please don't back out," she pleads. "You're literally the only one I can count on right now."
That hits me different. I can't remember a time anyone's ever counted on or needed me for that matter. "Okay, Sugarcake. It's a date."
There's a muffled noise in the background and it takes me a moment to figure out what it is.
"Did you just scream into your pillow out of excitement?" I ask.
"No," she says, then after a moment, she adds, "Maybe."
"This really means so much to you, huh?"
"You have no idea." Then she adds softly, "Thank you."
I smile to myself. "You're welcome."