L O V I N G
L A K Y N
I SLAMMED THE thick text book shut. That's enough for today, I'm exhausted.
As I got out of my desk chair, the blood flow finally began working in my legs again. Sitting in the same position for hours gets extremely uncomfortable after a while.
As I brushed my baby hairs out of my face a knock sounded at my door, startling me.
"Who is it?" I asked.
I heard no response, that was a dead giveaway that it was my father.
He turned the knob of my door before entering, "The Hale's will be here soon for dinner." he announced, "Get ready, you can't let them see you like that." he pointed out followed by a scoff.
I looked down at my leggings, gulping, "I'll get into something more appropriate now."
He nodded, the most forced smile appearing on his thin lips before he exited.
Just another rude and brief visit from my father. What's new?
I huffed, walking into my wardrobe, scanning each section. Nothing popped out at me because in all reality, I just wanted to stay in my Lulu Lemon leggings and Guess hoodie, but casual attire isn't possible when the Hayes have a dinner, it's formal or you don't attend.
Especially when we're dining with Harrison and Miles Hale.
Like Miles and I, Harrison and my father are best friends. Work mates, more so. There is no one my father cares to impress more than Harrison Hale.
I decided on a long-sleeved white top with a turtle neck and a tight fit, the fabric was ruched, making it more flattering than your average top. Along with that, I chose a skirt with a black and white houndstooth pattern, but the skirt wasn't a thin material, it was thick and warm, almost cotton like. It secured around my waist with a silver button and reached my mid-thigh.
I tucked the thin turtle neck into my skirt, grabbing a jacket that matched my skirt. It was adorable, cropped and pulled the whole outfit together.
I walked over to the island type bench in the center of my wardrobe, it contained several drawers and the surface was transparent, giving a perfect view of my jewelry which was extremely expensive, laid out nicely.
I pulled the drawer out, pinching the diamond earrings between my fingers before piercing them through my ears.
I yanked my hair out of the high ponytail I had messily tied it up into, walking back into my bedroom before grabbing my hair brush off my vanity, brushing through the knots, putting it back into its straight form, thankfully tying it up didn't put any kinks in my hair, otherwise it would have disturbed all the work I put into straightening it this morning.
I really didn't want to have to put nice shoes on, especially since we're inside and it really isn't necessary but unfortunately, if I come downstairs with anything other than heels, father will send me straight back upstairs to put on some nicer more appropriate ones.
After I finished completely getting ready, I exited my room.
As I descended down the stairs, I was hit with the heavenly scent of beef and a mixture of other scents, like red wine and fresh greens.
Elaine may be a pain in the ass, but goodness she can cook.
My mother was—to be blunt—a terrible cook, she's the reason we hired Elaine in the first place. Dad is a sorry excuse of a cook too, we're all practically doomed in the food aspect of things, well I don't know if am, personally, I've never had to make anything for myself, so that skill has never been tested.
God, I hope when I have children one day, I am a good parent. I want to be the best mother, I want them to never feel neglected or as though that have to be a certain way.
I don't want them to feel the way that I do.
That's if I ever have children. I'd love to create something, but I'm not sure I could go through with the whole pregnancy, I think I have a genuine phobia. Don't get me wrong, pregnancy is a beautiful thing, I'm just not sure I am capable of it.
I entered the dining area, which was though the lounge in a completely large and elegant room to the left. The table was unnecessarily long and decadent, the tile was a taupe like marbling, whilst the rest of the flooring on the bottom floor was simply black and white marble, some rooms just being white acrylic.
The warm color gave off a mature vibe, whilst the crisp white walls were (as expected) completely bare, though it did create an illusion of a bigger room.
The table was dark rich wood, lined with a long off-white table runner, the plates already placed centered in front of four cushioned chairs, a fork and knife placed a specific exact amount of distanced away from the plate, a neatly folded napkin on the opposing side and matching placemats beneath the porcelain objects.
Of course there was an amazingly expensive chandelier too, centred on the roof. It was gold, contrasting well with the shelves, dazzling diamonds hanging from each side, cascading down to create a curtain like illusion.
There were two gold-rimmed shelves, only on the smallest wall with some expensive China and family airloomes in there, no pictures which is normal around here. I think the only family picture we have is of mom and dad, it's in a small frame next to dad's bed.
We have a photo album or two stashed away in one of the spare rooms we use for storage, but they don't ever come out and the pictures are never put on display, for that, I am not sure why. Maybe it's because mom is in all of them and it's an instant mood downer, or maybe it's simply just unprofessional in fathers' point of view.
"What in the heavens are you wearing?" my father exclaimed, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I subconsciously looked down at myself. I had felt good about my outfit, it's elegant, comfortable and completely priceless, especially paired with my diamond earrings and my red-bottom shoes.
I gulped, unsure of how to respond, "The dining room looks absolutely splendid." I complimented, attempting to change the subject.
Father—as always—looked ever so neat in his suit, the black blazer and floral-patterned tie looked marvelous on him, the blue in his tie brought out the blue of his eyes further, one feature I am grateful to have gotten from dad, his greying hair was slicked back.
"That skirt is disgustingly short." he scoffed, diverting his eyes away from me as though I was impossible to be looked at, "Go change it."
I sighed, "But father—"
"Lilac Marie Hayes." he said awfully calm, though his tone portrayed a warning like tone, "Change, now!" he roared.
I flinched, my eyes feeling extremely large as my palms began to sweat, "Okay." I obliged.
I sighed in disappointment, folding my arms over my chest followed by a huff as I began to exit the dining room.
As though an angel was on my side, the doorbell rung, signaling the Hale's approval, meaning I was unable to change as it'd be extremely rude of me to go elsewhere whilst our guests are here.
"You're fortunate." my father spat, "Go get the door, and pull your skirt down at least an inch or two."
I rolled my eyes once he couldn't see me, ignoring his comment as I headed for the door.
I stood before the door for a moment, pulling myself together, readjusting my jacket, straightening my pearls and tucking my hair behind my ears before inhaling a deep breath and opening the door.
"Mr. Hale." I greeted, a large (forced) smile stretched upon my lips as I out-stretched my arm, signaling for him to enter.
"Evening, Miles." I greeted, purposely using his first name as he entered as well.
I knew I shouldn't have called him that, it's an instant trigger for him, but he was death glaring me for no apparent reason as he walked in.
He clenched his jaw as I closed the door, leading them to the dining room.
"You both looked very neat." I complimented, as my father would have wanted.
Harrison smiled warmly, "As do you, Lilac."
I internally winced. Lilac. When will people stop calling me that? I know it's my name, but nicknames exist for a purpose, the reason being for people whom dislike their name, like me.
"Thank you, Mr. Hale." I replied courteously.
Miles grunted, laughing to himself for who knows what reason, probably because I am being nice and he knows that's not what I am really like.
Elaine came in, pulling out Mr. Hale's seat, whilst Miles sat down quickly next to me. Dad came in immediately, greeting Mr. Hale with a handshake, before he seated himself.
Dad and Miles' dad began to converse excitedly, I automatically tune out at this point because it's usually just work-related talk.
"So, what's wrong with you?" I asked as I crossed my legs, turning to face Miles with a raised eyebrow.
He looked rather swell in his plain black suit, the entire outfit was perfect and matched effortlessly, his hair was beginning to grow out, the usual trimmed sides blending in with the length of the rest of his hair, though it was still gelled back, which he seems to do on occasion.
He shared an extreme resemblance with his father, though he definitely got his eyes from his mother. So deep, so emotion-filled unlike the void orbs Lakyn owns.
He rolled his eyes, "Nothing."
I leant over, "Don't be so brusque." I scoffed.
Hale snorted, "I don't even know what the fuck that means, Lila." he scoffed, "You and your fuckin' big ass vocabulary." he muttered under his breath.
I rolled my eyes, "Your ego is larger." I taunted.
He shook his head, "I think yours is." he replied back fiercely, "The way you treat Eden is fucked."
"Language!" Mr Hale butted in, appalled by Hale's use of words.
Hale rolled his eyes.
A sudden realization hit me.
Eden, Eden, Eden. Of course, that's what this is about.
He's still mad at me about volleyball in PE this morning, how pathetic.
I snorted, "You can't possibly be mad at me all because I accidentally hit Eden, can you?"
He remained silent, though his silence spoke more volumes than his words ever could.
"It wasn't an accident." he retorted, finally. "It was intentional."
Despite his rather harsh and anger-filled demeanor, I could tell he was slightly proud of his use of words, though intentional is one of the micro-sized words in my vocabulary, it was a big one in his, and for that I couldn't help but smile.
Before I could respond, a plate was served in front of me, being placed on top of the much larger plate of which was already on the table. It was pointless, but I guess it's a presentation thing.
It was thinly cut beef, spread perfectly on top of a cranberry salad. Elaine managed to make the dish look extremely delicious and well-made.
"Thank you, Elaine." Miles said politely, him being the only one to do so.
We all dug in immediately, I was hungry and the rich smell of the meat was only adding to my hunger.
I ate slowly and carefully, making sure not to drop a single crumb on my mostly white outfit. The meat was nice and rather tender, just how I like it, but the salad was. . .interesting, the cranberries were sour and due to the previous salt flavor apparent to my taste buds, it mixed strangely.
I am aware it's a hospitality thing to differentiate flavors, so that the guest doesn't get bored of the same taste, but I wasn't too sure, though everyone else seemed to enjoy it, in fact after that everyone was well ready for dessert, though I decided to skip out on that part, I knew dad would offer me the death glare if I any so much as pecked at the deviant chocolate cake.
I sat there awkwardly as everyone munched down their desert, keeping my focus on the pale flowers in the vase, placed in the middle of the table, acting as a centerpiece.
"Want some?" Hale offered, sliding the plate with slightly less than half a slice of cake on there.
I shook my head, staring at father in the corner of my eye, "I'm fine."
He looked at me blankly, "C'mon," he urged, "He's not looking."
I gave in, using Hale's spoon to shovel a mouthful of lovely cake into my gob, holding my hand over my mouth as I chewed. It tasted so good.
"Thank you." I smiled small.
He dismissed me, continuing to finish the rest, when finally, Mr. Hale and dad's conversation bought my attention.
"So, how is Alison?" Mr Hale pried, the mention of my beloved mother causing me immediate distress.
Fathers eyes connected with mine immediately before he turned his attention elsewhere, "Better." he replied briefly.
Oh, how badly I wish she was better.
Mothers entire life has practically been downhill, but now she's in rehab, it's like she's not walking down the hill anymore, she's driving—at full speed, sending her closer and closer to the bottom, though unfortunately mountains contain multiple different trails, I can't predict which one she'll take to get to the bottom.
The short cut, or the long one.
"That's good." he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, "Will she be home anytime soon?"
Father scoffed, "We don't know yet." he cleared his throat, "The rehabilitation center calls us each fortnight and briefly updates us, we're still waiting for that call."
I sighed. I miss her voice.
I wanted her home so badly, part of me just wished she was here. She's been in and out of rehab since I entered this world, but usually they detox her, depriving her of her addictions before they deem her stable and she returns home, but it's been two years.
Two years of draining her, keeping her from us. Who am I kidding, those pills took her before reality could, she's long gone.
She was allowed home throughout Christmas, she didn't come to New York with us, but she stayed home for a night or two before Christmas Eve and it wasn't the same.
She wasn't smiling anymore. Though she was always dosed up on who knows what, she always held that precious warm smile, that was gone this time around.
Mother relapsed the next day. We found her in the bathroom with a needle in her arm, she didn't inject properly and that alone is an entire other story.
We were so disappointed, dad and I. We held so much hope this time, he truly thought she had—or would recover, but the moment she was back, so were her old ways.
The hope is slowly fading in a hole of pessimism, leaving me with absolutely nothing but emptiness.
She's now under far more strict conditions, longer recovery time and they said that they will be making a consistent effort to encourage her recovery, but I fear that recovery is also somewhere in that pessimistic hole.
"I'm sorry, Foster." Mr. Hale apologized out of pure grief, "How have you been feeling about the situation, Lilac?" he turned his attention towards me.
Hale sucked in a breath, he knows I hate the subject of my mother, it's an immediate depressive episode for me if it's spoken about, especially when I am personally part of the conversation.
"She's been completely fine." father answered for me.
I have been far from fine, I felt like saying, but I lack courage around my father.
Hale snorted and I knew it was because of my father's selfish and inconsiderate words, I'm sure if his dad wasn't around, he'd say something.
"Well, if you don't mind, could Lila and I go upstairs?" Hale asked, excusing us from the conversation and the table.
They both weren't wary about us being in the same room, though we're of the opposite genders, we haven't done anything sexual and we never will, the most intimate thing we've done is sleep in the same bed—hundreds of times—but we don't cuddle or anything, it's just like a normal sleepover with a normal friend.
They nodded, excusing us.
I exhaled, thankful that this dinner was coming to a close. I would have exploded if I sat there any longer.
We exited the dining room, heading up the stairs until we reached the floor that my bedroom was on, entering the large and bare space I call my room.
I sat down on the edge of my bed, whilst Hale pulled my swirly acrylic chair out from my desk and sat down on it, swirling in circles like a child.
Finally, he stopped, placing his feet on my floor, his legs parted as he leant back in the chair, staring at me with a blank expression.
"Stop being mad at me." I begged, pouting, "It's strange. I don't like it."
He narrowed his eyes at me, "Then admit what you did wrong."
I shook my head, "She's new, I'm just messing around." I shrugged.
He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the previously neat styling, "Well find someone else to fuck with."
Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes at him, "You've never gone this far just for a root, why is she so important to you?"
He tsked, "She isn't important to me—not the slightest." Hale said honestly, "I just want to fuck her, then feel free to do whatever you want."
He sounds sick, I am aware. But that's Miles Hale for you, like I've explained, he's just lonely. Plus, I think the constant attention gives him something—something that boosts his ego further, but Eden doesn't seem to have anywhere near as much interest with him than Hale does, which worries me.
She's meant to be temporary, the longer she takes to give herself up, the longer she'll have to stick around.
"Can't you find someone else?"
Hale shook his head, "Nah." he scoffed, "You and Eden are really the only pretty girls left, it's rather her or you, you choose."
I feigned sickness, "Disgusting." I retorted, causing him to laugh loudly, "Go find some girl in Ridgewood or something."
That town is filled with desperate little girls that literally spend their entire day trying to find someone to spread their legs, well I don't go there often, that's just what Blaire has told me.
"Doesn't count."
I furrowed my eyebrows, "What doesn't count?"
He shook his head, "Don't worry."
I stared at him strangely, "Okay. . ." I trailed, "So, you want me to leave her alone, so that you can. . .you know."
He nodded, "Exactly."
"That won't be easy, but I'll try." I gave in, "But, you have to promise that once you're done with her, she's gone."
He nodded once again, excitement clear in his eyes, "I promise, purple."
I trusted his words, "This better not take long."
He smirked, leaning forward, "It never does." he replied, "She'll fall for me, they always do."
"I haven't."
Hale stood up, "That's because you're my sister, Lila." he snorted, "I'm not into incest."
How ironic, I swear he just said seconds ago that it's rather me or Eden that he has to have sex with. I think he's taken too many balls to the head in lacrosse or the sex is slowly killing all his brain cells, because I swear he doesn't think at all.
I laughed, standing up, "You're such a dim-wit."
He's so dense, sometimes. Completely thick-headed and brainless, if he wasn't so good at lacrosse and had me as a personal tutor, he'd be absolutely lost.
I appreciate him more than he'll ever know. He's the sibling I never had, the over-protective brother I never had. Which is exactly why I know that once this Eden conversation is over, the tables will turn and he'll be drowning me in 'are you okay's' until he truly believes that conversation about my mother did no harm, he loved her almost as much as I did.
"And you're a bitch."
I grinned evilly, "Aww, thanks!"
Ah, nothing better than the brotherly teasing from your best friend.
That's Miles Hale for you, and I wouldn't have him absolutely any other way.
***
Heyyy to the very small amount of people that actually read this 🤣
I hope you liked this chapter, I know it's relatively slow right now, but you wait ten or so chapters and it'll be crazy 🥰🤣 I can't wait!
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