Ever since I could remember I had been different from other people. It wasn’t an obvious difference, but it was one that I had always felt. My older sisters were perfect and had fit in seamlessly to every social setting they found themselves in. They were naturally perky and outgoing, especially Anna who could sell ice to Eskimos. Libby had mellowed out in the last few years but at least she didn’t hyperventilate when she met new people or got too close to strangers.
No, that was just me.
“Morning,” I say to no one in particular as I enter the kitchen.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” I heard my eldest sister’s familiar voice. I spun where I stood and stared at Libby who was sat on the couch in the adjoining family room. “Surprised to see me?”
Libby and her boyfriend of three years, David McFarland, live in Boston where she worked as an art dealer and he was a Harvard Law student, so seeing them here could only mean one thing. Something was wrong.
This realization did nothing to help with my anxiety disorder, but I persevered and made my way through the house until I found not only Libby and David visiting, but Anna and Sawyer, too. Sawyer Lawson was the joker, much like Anna, and once he saw me approaching he ran over to me and slung me over his shoulder. I yelped and kicked at him to let me go, which he eventually did when Anna threatened him.
“Catherine, you’re awake,” my mom beamed up at me from where she sat in deep conversation with David. “Come here, honey. Elizabeth and David have some news for us.”
“You’re pregnant?” The words slipped from my lips before I had time to process them and I threw my hand over my mouth when I heard what I had just said. “Oh, my God, Libby. I’m sorry. No, not pregnant.”
Libby blushed, the red matching her hair color, and she looked to David. He stood from where he sat with my mom and was quick to reach my sister’s side. He kissed her gently on the lips before he turned to smile at me.
“Well,” David began. “We are pregnant, so you’re going to be an aunty, but that wasn’t what the news was. We wanted to keep that a secret for a little while longer, at least until Libby is in her second trimester.”
“David,” Libby warned him with a slight scowl. “Focus on the other news.”
The look that passed between David and Libby was one of sheer love. He gazed at her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him, and a blind person could see that he utterly adored and doted on her. Libby, in turn, had never looked so serene. She was practically glowing and I wasn’t sure how much of that was down to her being pregnant. She radiated, and it was beautiful.
“We’re engaged,” David finally said, never once taking his eyes from his fiancée. “We’re getting married in six weeks. On Valentine’s Day.”
“And you’re going to be my bridesmaid!” Libby added in excitement.
I’m pretty sure that this was meant to be good news. Or to a normal person, it would have been. But in that moment, when the announcement finally sunk in, fear gripped me. The thought of having to stand in front of hundreds of guests, most of which I hadn’t met before, and be a huge part of my sister’s perfect day was nearly killing me. Literally. My breathing became erratic and my heartbeat went into overdrive, but through the inner turmoil, I still managed a smile.
“Yay,” I beamed my best fake smile and sat on the couch opposite Libby and David. “Tell me everything.”
Libby happily told us that she and David would be getting married on Valentine’s Day. According to her, it would be perfect timing, considering how she’d be a few weeks into her second trimester. David had insisted they be married before the baby arrives, something my own father was more than happy about.
What Dad was less than thrilled with, though, was the budget. Mom was insisting that money be no object for the wedding and that Libby could have the fairytale ceremony if that’s what she wanted. Dad said over his dead body.
Anna and I were to be the bridesmaids, naturally, and I’m not sure which of us were more ecstatic. Anna shot me a sideways glance when Libby told us that she wanted us in pink dresses for the wedding. I shot Anna a look that said that we’d mention the dress-hair clash some other time.
“So, how are you going to plan a wedding when you live in Boston but the ceremony will be here?” Sawyer asked from the kitchen as he cooked up something for lunch. I’m not sure what the concoction was, but it smelt delicious. “I mean, you’re on opposite sides of the country.”
“Well, that’s the other thing,” Libby beamed. “I’ll be staying here.”
“And what about David?” Anna asked, pointing to my sister’s fiancé.
“It’s tradition for the groom not to see the bride before the wedding,” Libby offered with a perplexed look on her face.
“It’s tradition not to see the bride the night before the wedding,” Sawyer scoffed as he motioned for Anna to try his cooking. “You don’t spend six weeks away from her.”
“Hey, if that’s what my bride wants,” David cozies up to Libby and nuzzles her neck with his nose. “Then that’s what she gets.”
It was nauseating to see Libby and David so in love and it only hit home to me that I didn’t have that kind of love in my life. I look around the room and see three couples madly in love and the reality of my situation was drilled home to me. I was single. And a freak. The only person who had seen the real me, horror stories and all, and the only person who had ever said that they were in love with me, was nowhere to be found.
I really needed to find Theo.
Starting tomorrow.
*~*~*
I stayed at my mom’s house last night. Whenever Genevieve was home, I liked to spend as much time with her as possible, just hanging out and being her big brother. That said, as her teenage hormones kicked in, Genevieve made it almost impossible for me to be the over-protective big brother.
When I woke up this morning, I found Genevieve sitting at the foot of my bed, her laptop computer in hand and an expectant smile on her face. Sometimes, she really did look scarily like my mother- this was the look Mom wore when she was plotting something, and Genevieve was definitely her mother’s daughter.
I groaned. “What do you want, Gee?” I ask, using her nickname that she hated.
“Well, Theodore,” she retorts in a mocking voice. The one thing Genevieve and I could bond over was the fact that we both hated our names. “Before I leave to go back to Connecticut, I have made it my mission to help you search for Catherine.”
I turn over in the bed and sit up just as Genevieve boots her computer on, looks for a file and flips the screen to face me. I read what’s written: HOW TO FIND THE TOTALLY AMAZING GIRL FROM THE CLOSET THAT I STUPIDLY LET GO BECAUSE I AM AN IDIOT.
“Catchy,” I say, trying to look offended, but failing miserably. “What’s it for, exactly?”
“I’m writing out a guide for you to follow,” my sister informs me, like this was the most obvious answer. “You’ve got six weeks to find this girl unless fate brings you two together. Well, you’re going to have to be proactive, so I propose…”
Genevieve went into a long speech about what I could do to make sure I find Catherine and profess my undying love for her. First of all, I had to keep an eye out for her. That was easier said than done when I didn’t know what she looked like, I tell Genevieve.
“Then keep an eye out on everyone,” she tells me like this should have already occurred to me. “Try to remember everything she said to you, because it’ll all be clues. Even the most insignificant thing could lead you to her. For example, a saying, a name, hobbies, music, school… they all add up in the end, Theo.”
The next thing was to create a short list of who Catherine could be. This is where my sister demanded that I log onto every social networking page I have, and spent the next three hours going through the profiles of every girl I was friends with. It was useless. None of the girls seemed like they could be Catherine.
“Maybe,” Genevieve tried to look hopeful, but failed. “You and her aren’t friends on any of these networks. I mean, if you were then you’d know who she was. Girls go to parties all the time and then gush about them on their status.”
I look at her, wondering how on earth she would know that. She’s fourteen for God’s sake, what would she know about parties, and the next day ‘epic party last night!’ status update.
“I have a life, Theodore,” Genevieve rolls her eyes at me. I nudge her, accidentally throwing her onto the floor as I did do. I look at her with wide eyes, horrified that I had knocked her over. “Theodore!”
Now I was in trouble. “Sorry?”
She shrugged it off, and went to point number three on the to-do list. Once I had narrowed all the potential Catherine’s down, I had to date them all.
“Date them?” I asked, a little unsure of the plan. “What if they aren’t Catherine and the real Catherine finds out and then decided to not turn up to the Valentine’s Masquerade?”
“You sound like a fourteen year old girl,” my sister snorts. “And I should know. I am one. Oh, my God. I’ve just thought of a potential problem.”
“What?”
“Her name is Catherine, right?” I nod at her question. “But what if it isn’t? Maybe she just said her name is Catherine, but she could really be a Patricia, or something. We could be looking at all the wrong people, Theo.”
“Her name is Catherine,” I assure her. “I know it is. She wouldn’t have lied about that. Now, onto point number four.”
Genevieve spent the next four hours going through her to-do list. She had somehow managed to get up to point eleven, although point six through nine seemed a little repetitive. I looked at the time and saw that we only had an hour before Genevieve had to go and she was nowhere near ready to leave. Her school in Connecticut didn’t start back until Wednesday, but she was headed out today to get resettled before classes began.
I helped, or at least tried to, as she resumed her packing from yesterday. We spent the next forty minutes goofing around as she threw all her things into two suitcases. At one point we were making so much noise Mom came to check on us and stayed until Genevieve finally zipped up the last of her luggage.
“I better go,” I announced. I turned to Genevieve and brushed her hair from her face. She looked as if she were about to burst out crying. “Hey, sis. Have fun at school. Don’t get into trouble and stay as amazing as you’ve always been, ok?”
“Sure,” she wiped a stray tear away with the back of her hand and pulled me into a hug. I lift her until she’s off the ground and hold her tightly before setting her back down. “I’ll be back for a long weekend at the end of February and I expect to be meeting Catherine. Or else.”
I laugh. “Or else?”
“Or else I will have to kick your ass,” Genevieve playfully punches my shoulder although she doesn’t do any damage whatsoever. I walk her to the waiting car that’ll take her to the private airfield just outside Hastings and help get her luggage in the trunk. Once she’s safely inside, she rolls down her window and smiles conspiratorially. “Now, go home and keep scouring though your online profiles. I promise, Catherine will be on at least one of them. If she isn’t, then I shall… let you kick my boyfriend’s ass when I bring him home to meet you?”
The car pulled away before I had time to process what my sister just said, but when her words sink in, I shout after her, “What boyfriend?”*~*~*Hi everyone. Sorry that this update wasn't that good. I'm still really sick and I hate every second of it! I do not make a good patient at all... Hopefully, I'll be back to at least 90% tomorrow so I can write something worth reading!
I've created a Pinterest board for Leap of Faith (just like I did with YH1NM) and I'll be updating it as the story goes on. Here's the link-
http://www.pinterest.com/sianiflewog89/leap-of-faith/
And, yeah, Theo is TJ and Catherine is Cate.
Sarah, xx