Shoutout to FedorableStumpies for making this super cute banner that I'm obsessed with! <3
Thanksgiving break, though only four days, was much needed. Spending it back home with my parents and Faith proved to be the perfect solution to get over the little riff in all our relationships. Since the entire production crew also went back to California to enjoy the mini-vacation with their loved ones, there weren't any side distractions while we celebrated the holiday with a family Thanksgiving lunch.
Luckily, me and Dad were able to convince Mom that it'd be appropriate to have an actual turkey this year. Yeah - we've gone our whole lives without having a turkey on the table for any holiday. Ever.
She resisted hard, but eventually gave in when I reminded her that I wouldn't be able to spend Christmas with them and that this could serve as an early Holiday present. Holding this against her was pure evil, but I had everyone (else's) best intentions at heart. From the way that Faith and Dad nearly sucked the meat dry from every bone of the poor bird, I'd say playing the Holiday card on my Mom was completely worth it.
As expected, I devoured every inch of the Thanksgiving lunch feast, not even caring that mom's cranberry sauce basically tasted like sour liquid goo since she decided against adding any sugar whatsoever. Conversation was pleasant and easy, surprisingly. No one threw any fits or tantrums and any sign of a minor side comment, mom and dad were quick to shut down with cold glares.
"Where are you headed for tonight, Love?" Mom asked subtly as she set down a tray of warm pumpkin pie after the heavy meal.
"Chris' house," I answered robotically, licking my lips.
"Nice," Faith snorted and muttered under her breath.
"Are they having a family dinner?" Dad asked after shooting Faith an unamused glare.
I shook my head gladly at this. "No. His parents are on call at the hospital tonight so it's just going to be the two of us. They're celebrating a family lunch as well."
"He isn't going to cook for you, is he?" Mom cocked her head to the side.
I paused, not having thought of this occurrence beforehand. "Actually, I have no idea. I imagine so, but I don't think he knows how to cook."
"You don't know if your own boyfriend knows how to cook? Hasn't he been courting you for months now?" Faith lowered her head at me.
"Who say's 'courting' anymore? Why don't you just say dating?" I frowned at her ridiculousness.
"I apologize for the lack of propriety in your speech. I should have known better than to think you were capable of understanding language of such...high standard."
"Oh my God..." I muttered.
The rest of lunch ended well, with the exception of the hard side-eye Faith was throwing at me. I knew it irked her that my dinner plans were with Chris, but at this point, whatever she had to say about it went in one ear and out the other.
After a well-deserved nap and about twenty minutes deciding between snoozing the alarm I had set and drifting back to sleep, once seven o'clock rolled around, I headed over to the Logan household. A part of me did wish that his parents were able to make it for the sole reason of finally being able to meet them. I was, after all, a close friend and a girlfriend to each of their sons. I'd say I was an important figure in their children's lives and they deserved to know who I was. I wanted to make a good impression on them, more than the perspective they've deduced from watching the show.
We all know that the side of me people watch on television isn't nearly as close to the truth to the person I truly am.
Despite the fact that I'd only be spending my time with Chris, I still wanted to look presentable. I sucked in what I had eaten for lunch and stepped into a knit sweater dress, leggings, boots, and a coat. My hair was already up from earlier today (nothing gets in the way of me and food), as was my makeup. I know I didn't have to look anything special today, but when you're dating the most popular guy at school, something inside makes you want to meet certain appearance expectations.
"Happy Thanksgiving babe!" Chris greets me at the front door. He's dressed in a brown sweater, olive pants, and suede shoes. Somehow, his clean getup does nothing for me. I don't feel a thing.
"Happy Thanksgiving," I repeat half-ass. Our hug is rigid and slightly uncomfortable, but he doesn't show any sign of uneasiness. "I hope you like pie."
"I love it," He says, grabbing the foiled tray I had brought from home. "I'll put it in the warmer."
It's nice and toasty inside. The air smelled of honey glazed ham. Though I had a full meal for lunch, my stomach was ready for part two of the Holiday feast.
"Is Caleb here?" I ask.
"He's with the lacrosse guys downstairs."
"Oh."
I follow Chris into the kitchen and see that he was just getting ready to set up for dinner. The kitchen counter was home to a sea of trays filled with delicious looking food, but the table was bare.
"I'm sorry I didn't finish setting up yet. I visited AJ, Will, and Pete's houses to make an appearance to their families."
"That's nice of you," I say, sweetly.
"It's a tradition I do every year. Their families treat me like I'm a second son - it's the least I could do."
"I'm sure the appreciate the thought," I answer politely.
Even though I had a bit of an attitude towards the end of the night of Homecoming, I slept a full twelve hours and the next morning, woke up feeling rejuvenated and fresh. I felt stupid for being such a grump and unappreciative of being crowned Homecoming Queen. There were four other nominees on stage who would have killed to be in my spot and I was acting like a total brat.
I decided to push my ego aside and start being nicer to those around me. I've learned that I'm the type of person who's easy to read and I don't want everyone watching me to think that I've become this stuck up bitch, despite a majority of the people in my life thinking so already.
So proceeding forward, I'm going to be cordial when it came to Chris and any other outings or special moments he held dear to his heart. Who was I to ruin high school for him?
"Did you cook all this food?" I ask, examining the intricacy of detail in each dish.
"No," He answers immediately. "I can barely make scrambled eggs without setting the house on fire."
"We're in the same boat," I laugh at him. "The last time I tried to make oatmeal I almost broke the microwave."
He laughs while grabbing two wine glasses from a cabinet. "If it makes you feel any better, I have set the microwave on fire before."
"Doesn't surprise me, but it does make me feel better."
"As it should."
"Did your mom cook this?"
"Actually, Caleb did."
I almost choked. "Caleb cooked?"
"Yeah. Sucker is damn good at it. He used to take cooking classes at the summer camp when we were in middle school. I was more of the swimmer and relay race type of camper, while Caleb did cooking and crafts."
This was fresh and surprising news to me. Caleb had never mentioned that he knew how to cook. Then again, I guess I wasn't really around to ask.
"I'm going to the game room real quick," I tell Chris as he starts to place forks and knives on the dining table.
"Go for it," He nods back at me. "I'll come get you when everything's ready."
I head over to the familiar door and descend down the stairs. To my delight, there's a bunch of ruckus I can hear - yelling, the clacking of game controllers, and the sliding of metal then banging against wood that I can only assume is from the foosball table.
"Are you freakin' serious dude? It's my ball!"
"I just scored in front of you, Little D. Are you blind too?"
"Viho for the last time, stop pressing triangle!"
I smile at the familiar voices, opening the door wide open to find all five boys occupied at the different areas of the game room. Viho and Trevor are playing some video game with Caleb watching on the sidelines, while Dylan and Phil seem to be in a head-to-head in a foosball game.
When I step closer to Dylan, Phil looks up and does a quick double take and the sudden abruptness in his movements causes Dylan to turn to me as well.
"LG!" Dylan smiled and reached over me for a hug. "Good to see you!"
At the sound of my name, Viho, Trevor, and Caleb snap their heads in our direction with confused looks on their faces. Caleb, I notice, quickly gets up from the couch and casually runs a hand through his hair.
"Hi Big D," I giggle into his shoulder. "Phil."
"Happy Thanksgiving," Phil smiles at me, also leaning in for a hug once Dylan and I let go. "What are you doing here?"
"Thanksgiving dinner with Chris," I explain with the shrug of my shoulders.
"LG! We've missed you around here!" Trevor nods his head at me with a smile.
I lean over the couch to hug him behind his shoulders. "I'm not surprised - you guys are lost without me!"
"Hey LG," Viho raises his soda can and gives me a peck on the cheek. "Please tell me you bought that sweater somewhere other than Abercrombie."
I scrunch my brows. "Why? You have something against them?"
"No, I used to be one of those greet models at the door and it was the worst experience of my life. Everytime I see a girl in a sweater dress it only brings back nightmares."
I laugh loudly at his horrified expression. "That's unfortunate. You'll be happy to know this is from Nordstrom."
"Thank God you have some class," He high fives me.
It's heartwarming to see how sweet and welcoming they are - I've missed their eccentric and humorous personalities.
Caleb, who has yet to speak, stands in a burgundy and white striped dress shirt and khaki pants. Out of the group, he's the only one who seems to have dressed up for the occasion. "Love, it's great to see you."
Everyone in the room seems to disappear when he speaks to me. I missed his voice. I missed his eyes. I missed his smile. I missed him.
When I walk over to him, the room goes silent in my mind as the other boys continue on with whatever they were doing before I had arrived.
"Happy Thanksgiving tutor," I say to him. "I brought some of my parents' pumpkin pie. Don't eat it."
He chuckles and I feel my heart burst. "They didn't poison it did they?"
"Might as well have with the way my mom cooks," I say.
"I'm sure it's great. I'll take a slice later."
"Chris tells me you're the one who cooked for Thanksgiving?" I ask, eager to learn more.
His eyes light up. "Yeah, that was me. Did you taste anything yet?"
"No, but I'm dying too! You never told me you knew how to cook."
He shrugs shyly. "It's not a big deal. I dabble in the kitchen here and there to make sure that mom and dad have a meal when they get home from the hospital because they're usually too tired to make anything themselves."
"I'm sure they don't mind at all. Now I have to taste one of your creations," I tease.
"That's a lot of pressure," His eyes widen. "Plus, there are plenty of five-star restaurants you can afford that would have food a million times better than my cooking."
"Yeah, but I don't want a meal from those pretentious places - I want one from you!"
Luckily, this makes him laugh. "Okay, okay. Any requests?"
"Hm," I tap my chin. "Mac and cheese? With bacon. And chicken! Oh, and can you add some broccoli too? Or is that weird?"
"Out of the different foods to choose from, you settle for mac and cheese? That's like, the easiest meal to prepare," He answers.
"Exactly. So if you mess that up, can you really call yourself a good cook?" I raise a playful brow.
He pauses. "Okay. Challenge accepted, badass."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute," Trevor raises his voice at us. "You always deny us when we ask you to make food but the second a pretty girl bats her eyelashes you turn into Chef Boyardee?"
"I'm still waiting on that mushroom swiss burger," Viho states bitterly.
"You've been waiting for seven months, it's obviously not going to happen," Dylan adds to that.
Phil only shakes his head. "I haven't even gotten the privilege of even seeing you in an apron yet."
We all turn to Caleb whose cheeks are filling into a scarlet red color that makes me want to cup them in my hands and-
"Okay, everyone, relax. Love is a guest here and as a resident, I have no choice but to accommodate her requests," He lies through his teeth.
"Bullshit - we're guests here all the time!" Trevor protests.
Oh, how I've missed these petty arguments.
"You're hardly a guest when each of you have your own damn towel in the bathroom upstairs. You guys are here more than I am," He fires back.
"You can't be complaining about that, you love us," Viho makes a kissy face at Caleb that causes me to chortle unattractively.
"I should start asking for you to pay rent," Caleb suggests with a teasing look.
"I'll start paying rent when you start cooking," Dylan offers.
"If it'll make you girls stop crying, I'll make mac and cheese for everyone," Caleb gives in.
I pout. "No fair! I don't want to share any mac and cheese."
"It's not like you can't afford it," Trevor teases, rolling his eyes.
"Ha ha," I deadpan.
"If anything, you should charge Love for your services," Dylan says.
Caleb turns his head at me. "Now that sounds like an idea..."
"Hold up," Viho lifts a hand. "If you're charging her, I hope you don't expect us to pay."
"How is that fair at all?" I narrow my eyes.
Viho looks at me as if I'm a ruler. "You're kidding right? You could go to the bank right now and ask for a thousand dollars in pennies if you wanted - I'm sure you could pay for some mac 'n cheese."
"If Caleb does charge us, you can pay for the bill, Love," Phil flashes me a toothy grin.
I look at Caleb who is standing quietly, smiling like a fool. "So, are you going to make me pay for a meal?"
He scrunches his brows, pretending to think about it while we all wait on the answer. "I won't charge if you promise me that you pass Chemistry two with an A this semester."
My heart actually drops. I'm barely - barely - passing that class with a B and that's with his help. "Well, looks like I'm paying the bill guys."
While everyone of us laughs, for a second everything felt like it was back to normal, like I hadn't won the lottery, like these past few months never happened.
There's a knock on the door and we all pause as Chris pokes his head through.
And I'm sucked back into the present.
"Love, dinner's ready," He smiles. Mine fades.
"Be right there," I say, my cheeks growing hot from embarrassment. The rest of the boys are silent when he closes the door, eyeing Caleb's reaction. "Sorry guys."
Caleb seems to be completely unfazed. Our little moment is over. It's quiet for a moment before he says, "Have fun. Let me know if you like the turkey."
I nod with my head hanging low walking to the door, as if I had just been called in for a punishment. "Will do. See you later guys."
"Bye Love," They all wave at me, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting.
A part of me hurt as I'm walking back up the stairs leaving them behind.
I miss my friends.
_________________________________
"FINALLY!" I exhale into the camera. "The first semester of junior year is finally over. Hello Winter Break!"
A few of the production crew, and of course Clarkson, send a chorus of cheers behind the camera and burning lights as I'm in for yet another confessional. I was becoming accustomed to doing these almost everyday, reflecting on what I had done and how I felt in that moment. It was almost like a personal diary, but for the entire world to watch.
I had stopped watching the episodes because I simply didn't have time too anymore. Okay, and because Darcy and Jagger weren't there to watch it with me, a tradition I had taken for granted. It didn't matter anyway since I'd get a recap of what happened due to fans on social media. As of right now, since production was delayed because of the Holidays, everyone is still on the episode of the lacrosse game where I brought the football team. So far, people are praising me for trying to bring peace to the lacrosse versus football rivalry, and are pissed that Caleb, Darcy, and Jagger had yelled at me after the game.
But I couldn't dwell on past episodes now that I've been able to make amends with the boys and Barcelona is just around the corner. I have too many things going on to be positive about rather than bitter.
"With Caleb's help, I was able to finish the semester with awesome grades and a rather shiny crown that I won at Homecoming," I wink. "It's been an overwhelming few months to say the least. The lottery, broken friendships, relationships, and spending money on ridiculous items...a lot has happened since the beginning of the school year. A lot has changed."
"Like what?" Sebastian asks.
"Well, the biggest thing has changed, is my life. I get to do things and go places no other teenager could do. What seventeen year old has their own house? Yacht? That they all bought on their own? I never thought I would win the lottery and now that I have, I'm experiencing various changes that I'm grateful for."
"Talk about your friendships."
"I've been spending more time with the lacrosse boys again and for now, everything is back to normal. With the exception of Darcy and Jagger, whom I miss dearly, I can't ask for better friendships."
I know my smile is genuine when I mention the boys because I couldn't be happier that they have seemed to have moved on from the past. Since Thanksgiving break, I've gone over to the game room a few times to hangout and it's as if nothing ever happened. It's an understatement to say that I'm grateful for how mature they've handled everything. It makes dealing with the tension within our group a bit easier for me.
"Now what?"
"Now, it's time for our trip to Barcelona!" I announce, clapping my hands in excitement. "I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to this trip. It's a much needed vacation. Granted, I'm a bit bummed my family can't come with me, but I know it's going to be a fantastic Christmas this year. The memories I'll make with my friends and beloved boyfriend-" Cringe. "-will last a lifetime."
"Any last thoughts?"
I pause to take a breath. "No. Not at all."
"That's a wrap!"
Everyone clears out of my room, and after Penelope and Clarkson remind me yet again that I need to start packing for my trip to Barcelona, I shut the door and am immersed in complete silence.
Finally.
This semester has been non-stop movement from here to there, non-stop drama, and non-stop thinking. Now I can relax before the trip and enjoy a bit of rest, which really means spending the first three days of winter break in bed completely asleep.
Even thinking about sleep makes me happy.
I'm about to head upstairs to my room when the doorbell rings, and I let out an audible, "Seriously?"
Who could it possibly be this time? Why can't anyone just leave me al-
"Caleb," I answer the door in surprise.
He salutes me in the cutest way possible. "Hey there."
"What brings you to my neck of the woods?"
"Could I come in? I think my bones have frozen."
I laugh at his shivering and immediately step to the side and let him in. "Mi casa es su casa."
"Gracias," He shudders, rubbing his hands together. "Wow, nice house."
I had forgotten that he had never come over to visit yet. "Oh right, it's your first time here."
"And I don't know why - this place is huge," He lifts his head to the high ceiling. "Is that a crystal chandelier?"
I bite my lip, too embarrassed to give him a straight answer so I just mumble, "Mhmm."
"And are these marble floors?" His eyebrows shoot up.
"Mhmm."
"And are those floor-to-ceiling windows?" He eyes the back of the kitchen.
"Mhmm."
"Rolling with the big boys now, aren't you badass?" He looks back at me with a teasing stare.
I sigh. "It wasn't my idea, really. I had an interior designer and everything. I can't take all the credit."
"This is a sick view of Thompson," He ignores my modesty and hobbles over to the windows. "I bet it's beautiful at night."
I shrug. "It's nice."
We watch as Thompson is covered in nothing but white beneath us.
"Wait, how did you know my where I lived?" I ask, breaking the silence.
"Penelope and Clarkson," He answers simply.
I didn't need further explanation. "So, did you want to make some hot chocolate or put on a Christmas movie?"
Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.
"That sounds awesome," He starts. "But I actually have plans with the boys tonight. Want to come with? We're going to the ice rink for some hockey."
"As fun as falling onto hard ice and cracking my brain open sounds, I think I'm going to pass," I reply which causes him to laugh. "I should get started on packing for Barcelona anyway."
At the mention of the trip, his laughter slowly dies down.
"Actually, that's the reason I'm here," He takes a step towards the kitchen, indicating a change in our conversation.
My heart jumps a bit, hoping he's decided to come. "Barcelona?"
"Yeah. I wanted to wish you safe travels," He smiles. It's warm and fuzzy, just like the feeling in my chest when we lock eyes as I follow him.
"That's sweet of you. Thanks for dropping by. I wish you were coming with," I say regrettably.
"For both of our sake's, and Chris', it's a good thing I'm not. Trust me when I say that it's easier this way."
"I don't doubt it."
"What's wrong?" Curiosity runs through his eyes.
"Nothing," I shrug pathetically.
"You really think you can lie to me, Badass?" He raises a brow teasingly, leaning his arms forward against the kitchen island. "Talk to me."
I hesitate for a moment. I can't actually believe I'm even thinking this, but could I really talk to Caleb about this? About my boy problems with his older brother? Talk about conflict of interest.
"It's...complicated."
"I've got time," He taps the face of his watch.
Where do I even start?
"I don't think I can continue dating your brother anymore," I let it out. Slowly, but it feels good to admit it.
Caleb seems relieved, a small smile even starting to form. "What happened? Did he do something to you?"
I widen my eyes. "No! Not at all. Nothing happened really. And I think that's the problem."
"That nothing happened?"
"With me. Nothing exciting happens when I'm with him. I don't feel anything. His mere presence doesn't affect me at all. Isn't that horrible?"
Caleb contemplates this in his head. "Not entirely. You can't help the way you feel. If you're truly unhappy, I'm sure he wouldn't want to be the cause of it."
"He isn't the cause of it necessarily," I defend. "From the very beginning I knew that our relationship was purely for the show and now more than ever, it's starting to affect me."
"It was bound to sink in sometime or later."
"Later would have been better. We're about to take this huge trip together and now...I don't even want to go," I hesitate with the last part.
He doesn't seem to be bothered by my statement. "I doubt you'll be able to go back on your word and back out of it. Maybe take some time before the trip for yourself and think things through. Whatever you decide, I'm sure you'll go with your gut."
I can't help but muster up a laugh at his response.
"What?" He asks in confusion.
"It's just...you're the only person who tells me to do whatever I want to do and it's funny because...it's just so Caleb. It's something you'd do," I answer stupidly.
"Something I'd do?" He repeats. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, that you are the only person who truly wants the best for me because that means having me think for myself. And I wish everyone else had that same mentality," I say.
"Hm," He thinks about this. "It also could be that you're a very stubborn person."
I frown, not expecting this response. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, that you're constantly building this anger towards Darcy, or Jagger, or Faith, because you think they're trying to control you, but in reality, if you simply listened to what they were saying instead of what you want to hear, then maybe you'd realize that it's something they'd do."
"You lost me at the word control," I tell him.
"Okay," He lays out his hands in front of him as if this was one of our tutoring sessions. "When you had that huge fight with Darcy and Jagger, they complained that you were spending too much time with your my brother and his friends right?"
"Right."
"And they claimed that you were turning into a different person, correct?"
"Correct."
"If you tried to understand where they were coming from, you'd realize it's because they don't know who they are that they're worried about you. They believe you're turning into a different person because they don't know what Chris is like, they don't know how Whitney really acts, they don't know if AJ is actually good person. They have no idea what these new friends of yours are capable of, and that scares them. And sure, they could spend time with them, but before you won the lottery, would you have entertained the idea of hanging out with my brother and his friends?"
Huh.
"Well..."
"I didn't think so," Caleb says before I can finish a thought. "There's a huge difference between hearing what someone says and listening to what someone says," He continues. "Hearing means that their words hit you. Listening means that their words sink in."
Caleb getting metaphorical is slightly turning me on.
This is exactly what he's talking about, Love. Listen to him! Don't just hear the words...that are coming out of this mouth...made of perfect pink lips...and those teeth...
"Love?"
I quickly snap. "Right! Hearing and listening. Totally different. Got it."
He snorts. "You didn't understand a single word I said, did you?"
"I did," I lie. "Of course I did."
"Okay. Give it some thought. We're not the bad guys here. We're on your side."
I sink down into the counter. "I don't care about anything anymore. Hate me, love me."
"Call me, beep me."
"If you want to reach me," I finish with a smile.
"You'll be okay, Love," He stares at me. There's certain way he looks at me though - it's like he has confidence in me. As if he's not worried about me. Like he actually believe I'll be okay.
"Thanks Caleb," I say.
For everything.
"Is everything else okay? Parents? School?"
"For the most part. I've been able to build a better relationship with mom and dad. You helped me pass my classes."
"You could have done that easy peasy."
"Not true," I shake my head. "What about you? Parents? School?"
"Parents are busy with work as usual. School was easy as usual."
"Wish I could say the same," I mutter. "I have a question."
"Shoot."
"Were you ever close as a family? It seems that your parents are always at work and there are days where I forget you and Chris are even related, much less brothers."
His sigh is long and heavy. "When we were kids, yeah. We used to take family trips to the lake all the time. Dad would rent us jet ski's and me and Chris would race around the lake to see who was fastest. He won every time but he made up for it by buying me an ice cream sandwich after."
"That sounds like you had a fun childhood," I reply.
"We did. And at summer camp, we were known as the Logan brothers. Everyone loved us and during the day, we'd play all the sports together. And then at night, I'd go off and do my own thing with cooking and what not while Chris would cause trouble with his older friends."
"Sounds about right," I say.
"You know, I've been thinking a lot lately, mainly of what you said about Chris. I think sometimes I get too prideful and don't realize that he's actually a good guy sometimes."
This relaxes me a bit. "I'm glad you're starting to see that. I think everything that's gone down between you both is in the past and if you want any type of future with him in your life, you're going to have to be the bigger person."
"It's hard to be sometimes when he's the older one. But I guess age doesn't affect maturity level."
I shake my head. "Not at all. Trevor and Viho are a testament to that."
"I've never heard a truer statement," He slaps the counter lightly and lifts himself up. "Speaking of those two, I should get going. If I don't get there before Trevor, there'll be no pizza left for anyone."
"Yum," My stomach grumbles at the thought of pizza. "I could go for a slice."
"Come join us," He urges.
I send him an apologetic smile. "I really should start packing. Maybe next time?"
He rounds the counter and I walk with him past the living room. "Of course. You're welcome anytime, you know that."
Silence follows us until we reach the front door. "Have a safe trip, okay? Message me pictures when you can."
I can't help myself. I jump and wrap my arms around his neck as if this was the last time I'd ever see him. "I will, I promise."
He's rigid at first, no doubt in shock at my sudden outburst, but his arms find their way around my waist and he instantly relaxes. "Call me the second you come back home. I can't wait to hear all about it."
I wish you were going, I wish you were going.
"Aye aye, Captain," I give him one last squeeze before letting go, my heart ripping apart at the same time.
"Bye, Love," He leans down to kiss my forehead and heads out the door.
My voice is stuck and I can't even respond when I watch him step into a wonderland of white snow on my front yard. When he hops into his car, I watch in admiration as he shakes the flakes of his head and breathes into his hands to warm them up. His lights turn on and before I know it, he's swerving out of my driveway and turning onto the main street.
"Bye, Caleb."
_____________________
It's the night before our Barcelona flight and because of my increased levels of procrastination, of course I've just started packing. I had been dreading this torturous yet necessary part of the trip for weeks now, but I had no choice but to go through with it. I've already filled up an entire suitcase with shoes and makeup, now it was time to go through an entire walk-in closet full of clothes and decide what to bring.
Then again, since I am a millionaire, the simple solution to this would be buying a fresh new wardrobe in Barcelona. I'm sure the quality of luxury is substantially better than here in America.
"You are not taking those with you," Clarkson stares at the pair of leggings that have puppy dog faces scattered across them. "I absolutely forbid you."
I frown. "They're comfortable. Besides, I'm only going to be sleeping in them. No one's going to see my lil pups at all."
Clarkson is appalled. "I can't even come up with a response that doesn't contain a swear word."
"Okay, well I'm bringing them. If I find anything cuter than this to sleep in while I'm in Spain, then I'll toss these aside," I say, pretending to compromise.
Like hell I was going to give these bad boys up.
"Love, you have a visitor," Penelope pokes her head through the door.
"Who is it?"
Nothing could have prepared me for the frail little girl that stepped into my room.
"Hey sis," Faith waves, sending me the tiniest of smiles. She appears more mature wearing her debate team polo, khaki pants, and loafers. Fortunately, she wasn't wearing pounds of makeup which caused me to smile.
"Faith, what are you doing here?" I ask, throwing a knit sweater into my suitcase before settling on the edge of my bed. Clarkson slowly draws to the door and sends Faith a kissy face before leaving us in privacy.
"I must say, I'm thoroughly impressed with the size of this house," She eyes the view from the windows. "Surely you had professional help - I'm certain you wouldn't be able to find a place this adequate on your own."
"Uh...thanks?" I say, unsure of what to answer. "Is that all?"
"No. I wanted to see you before you left," She shrugs, continuing to walk around the room. "Christ, this room is monstrous. It makes my room back home look the size of a coat closet."
"It's big alright," I agree with her. "Kinda lonely sometimes though."
She looks back at me while grazing her hands above the fireplace. "I assume so. A typical girl like yourself, stuck in this preposterous house."
"Did you come here to insult me?" I joke. "Cause it's working."
She giggles slightly under her breath. "No, surprisingly. I came here to make amends. This estranged relationship has gone on long enough. If something deleterious were to occur while in Barcelona, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for not being mature enough to apologize to you."
I sat up straighter. "Apologize for what?"
She joins me on the bed and soon we're sitting face to face. "For judging you. You were right - I was being completely unwarranted in my reasons for feeling upset with you. Ever since you won the lottery I couldn't help but be a bit...jealous."
"Jealous?" I repeat in complete shock. "Why would you be jealous?"
"Because you won millions of dollars for the most fatuous reason. You didn't discover the cure to cancer, or win an Oscar. All you did was guess a handful of numbers in the right sequence and behold - a life where I'm no longer needed."
I could feel my heart breaking slowly as I watch Faith's face curve downward. "Um, I don't know what planet you think you're on because there's never been a day when I haven't needed you. And quite frankly, I don't think there will ever be a day when I won't need you."
"Really?" She doesn't look up.
"Faith, come on. You and I both know that if I didn't win the lottery, you'd be the one making sure I wasn't failing my classes and keeping my life together. We complete each other - you need someone to continually correct, and I'm the one always making mistakes."
This ignites a laugh from her. "I do like being the right sibling."
I roll my eyes. "You don't let me forget it."
"I have to be good at something. You're the pretty sister - all the boys want you. I'm the boring nerd that doesn't do anything fun."
"You think I'm the pretty sister?" I repeat.
"Everyone knows it," She finally lifts her eyes at me. "Even before you started hanging out with the popular kids, the lacrosse boys were all over you."
This is news to me. "Are you sure you're talking about the same lacrosse boys? Like, the goofy, sometimes disgusting lacrosse boys?"
She smirks. "I doubt you think Caleb is goofy and disgusting."
I clear my throat. "Of course I do. He's one of them."
"You're a sucky liar, you know that?"
"Can we get back on the subject?"
"Sure."
"So...you came here to apologize?" I conclude.
"If you want to pry it out of me, yes. God forbid that anything were to happen while in Barcelona, and we had a huge fight before we left, I could-"
I reach out to her and squeeze her tightly before she can finish the sentence. "Thanks, sis."
"Thank God you didn't let me finish," She sighs out. "I didn't have it in me."
I laugh at her. "I don't think I have it in me to deal with the emotion right now."
"Are you going to be okay? In Barcelona?" She asks, genuine concern in her youthful eyes.
I pat a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, your big sis has it under control."
And even though she smiles, I don't think either one of us believes