The Art of Knowing [Completed]

14. • bad blood •

[to all unaware of your worth. we always want to be what we're not, why not be happy with what you've got? you don't even know how truly special are.]

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"You're a lot happier at random times of the day lately. It's really uncomfortable."

Shay listened as a soft chuckle escaped from Ryan. The pristine white towel was now gripped by her hand swiftly, dabbing the sweat off her forehead with her lucky tennis racket to her side. Ryan said nothing, just chuckled before tilting his head back to quench his thirst, the crunching of the plastic water bottle lingering as they walked off. Evident disagreements were impossible to ignore between the siblings, making a friendly tennis match between them a much healthier outlet to their subtle rivalry. Much to Shay's dismay, Ryan had won once again.

"No answer? Really?" Shay prompted with a teasing glare. His dark locks clung onto his sweaty face as he grinned, only to then shrug stoically while he kept moving. "You're such a dork," she added bitterly with a subtle grin, forcefully pushing her tennis racket over for him to grab. He ignored the racket pressed against his chest, retaliating with a glare to her and the refusal to be her little servant. She puffed up and rolled her eyes at him.

"Can't help out your little sister but I'm sure you'd carry the whole tennis court if Cassandra asked you to." She grinned once again at Ryan's sudden shift in gaze, looking down at his towel in a despondent manner after her remark. Shay had always loved the gift of shaming him even if it were just a mere second.

"Actually, I probably would." Her face softened at his words. "At least she's nice to me. That's sort of how it works, you know."

Her remark had backfired. The sudden retaliation from her brother was quite new for her, but in all honesty, a bit refreshing. "Whatever," she mustered finally.

The siblings waltzed into the clubhouse swiftly as they left their equipment on the designated spot. Someone would surely pick it up anyways. It wasn't long before their pompous mother entered tightlipped, although she should've truly been rather pleased to see her children at least attempting to spend time together in any other way besides fighting. Her eyes trailed down to their feet before shifting her gaze up shortly after, a suggestive lift of her brows accompanied by her silence.

"Shoes, please."

Ryan glared over at Shay in disdain, a similar expression draped over her own face. Their mother sat peacefully on the luxurious couch with grace. She grabbed the catalog resting on the glass pane of the coffee table before allowing black rimmed glasses to dangle from her face as she read. Her children grumpily took off their shoes before entering as she lifted her gaze subtly. It was no surprised to see such stoic expressions across their faces. An uncomfortable silence engulfed them all in seconds, Ryan despondently twisting the water bottle cap with a word, Shay repeatedly dabbing her face in front of the mirror- it was a miracle to see the limited amount of makeup on her. The mother took off the delicate glasses after a couple of moments, unaware of when it was the last time they'd actually spoken to each other genuinely.

"Are you guys staying for dinner?" she asked finally, only to see Shay's grimace in confusion at her request through the mirror.

"Rather not," Shay muttered. Her blunt response earned a rather surprised look from her brother, although it wasn't like he was willing to stay over either.