I expected Alana to continue to argue with me, but instead, she sat up and dropped her purse on her lap. “Twenty-two years?” I nodded. “Isn’t your sister way older?”
Ah…thattopic. Brooke’s favorite. “Brooke’s my half-sister. She has a different mom, who’s, funny story, actually my—never mind.” I never had a problem telling my friends that Brooke was both my sister and my cousin… but it felt strange telling Alana about it. What if she’d think it was weird and then she’d block my number so she’d never have to hear from me again?
For some reason, the news never made it out into the world that Brooke’s mom was my mom’s twin sister. In fact, barely anyone even knew that Brooke had a different mother than the rest of us. It didn’t matter anyway.
“So your family isn’t perfect?” Alana asked, caution in her tone.
I shook my head. “I never claimed it was. But even if I had, I don’t think the fact Brooke only has the same dad as Elliot, Nova, and I is a flaw.”
“Of course it isn’t, but it sure makes your family seem more… natural.”
I didn’t really get it, to be honest, and I always thought of myself as smart. “Whatever helps you get out of my car.” I held my hand out, waiting for Alana to take it.
“We used to have two cats,” I told her, hoping it would make my family sound even more natural, whatever that was supposed to mean. “One was called Purrito, the other one Sir Meow. There was this one time, Dad took them to the vet and he was embarrassed by their names, so he said they were called Jack and Ricky.”
Alana laughed, the sweet sound of it digging deep into my bones.
Okay, what else?
Think, Eden, think.
“When I was five, I stole Brooke’s stuffed animal, hid Mr. Fluffles in the oven, and then forgot about him. For an entire week, Mom and Dad were looking for that bunny, and when Dad finally found him, Mom said: ‘That’s exactly why we should start eating less takeout.’ My parents’ definition oftakeoutwas whatever Dad could take home from the restaurant,” I told her. “Seriously. I haven’t eatenactualtakeout until I moved out for college.”
“Not even on vacation?”
I shook my head. “Either Dad cooked or we went to a fancy restaurant.”
“Why?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
I shrugged. “Mom just never wanted us to eat fast food. She insisted home-cooked meals are way better—which they are—and since Dad is a chef, he could at least cook for us, too. Mymom can’t cook, so it was always on Dad or my siblings and me when we got older. The only times we didn’t eat at home, we went to different, expensive restaurants where we had to wait like anhourfor our food to be served.”
Her eyebrows raised slightly. “So, you never just went to McDonalds for dinner?”
“Definitely not.”
She finally took my hand, her fingers trembling slightly as she allowed me to help her out of the car. “You missed out.”
I chuckled lightly. “I beg to differ.”
Perhaps I would’ve thought differently, had I grown up under different circumstances. But I never felt like I was missing out on anything. While other people went out to eat at fast food restaurants or ordered in, I got my own chef at home. Who, alright, happened to have been my dad, but it was still cool.
Though, other kids in my family were teasing my siblings and me about it a lot growing up.
My eyes immediately fell on Alana when she finally decided to move. The soft fabric of her dress clung to her body, accentuating her curves and drawing my attention to all the places I was sure she didn’t want me to look at. God, she was so beautiful, and I couldn’t fathom how she didn’t understand that.
As she stepped out, I noticed the hemline of her dress creeping up, revealing more of her smooth skin thanIliked. In a swift motion, I reached out and gently tugged on the end of her dress, ensuring it stayed in place.
Alana turned to look at me, her green eyes meeting mine. Something passed between us which I wasn’t even sure what it was, but then suddenly, a hint of a blush crept up her cheeks. I had the overwhelming urge to reach out and cup her face with my hands and brush my thumbs over her delicate skin, but instead, I cleared my throat in hopes it would make that feeling go away.
“Shall we go inside?” I gestured toward the front door, hoping she would continue to hold my hand. Maybe she forgot she was holding it… but that would’ve been a bad sign, right?
Alana nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. Together, we walked toward the house, the sound of laughter and soft music growing louder as we approached.
Inside, we barely came across anyone, so I assumed my parents were hosting their party in the backyard. It was cold outside, though perhaps not cold enough that we’d freeze to death. I wasn’t sure yet, so I guess we were going to see how the evening would play out.
It was a great warmth inside the house, cozy enough to make me consider simply staying inside. Perhaps if I hadn’t brought Alana, I would’ve said hello and gone back into the house, but we were here to help Alana get out of her comfort zone.
Since Colin called off his charity event and rescheduled it until further notice, this was all we had.