Going 78 Miles Per Hour | ✓

19 | Tire Allignment

VIERNES
8:17 PM

Reid Harlow

I just have to make more of an effort for this family.

So, why the fuck is it so exhausting?

Claudia has since returned home from college and is sitting across the table from me, informing the family about how she's going to be off in a couple of weeks and wants to spend time with the family. Something along the lines of a family getaway.

Sebastian and Nini seem fucking ecstatic; the idea of the entire family sharing the same break week gives them an opportunity to plan a trip. Presley even joins in and adds that his college is scheduled to have a break around the same time—cementing the proposition of this idea.

I'm picking at my dinner, offering little comments to the whole topic. Sebastian is offering the family a possible location for their mini-vacation, and Ariah and Claudia are listening intently. Ariah seems the most excited out of the five, asking questions about their option every couple of seconds.

Nico and I are quiet, but at least Nico is eating. He's sitting to my right, clutching onto a small toy I often see him carry around with him. He doesn't leave it away from sight, or from his hands, and he hides it under the table so Nini wouldn't be able to say anything.

"I think we should go to a cabin," Claudia suggests, deriving from the options Sebastian set forth. He suggested a trip to the beach, or a little road trip across the country to explore tourist spots—but nothing about a cabin up north.

"A cabin?" Sebastian repeats, cocking his brow in her direction. She nods. "We're already living in snow half of the year and you want to go into more snow?"

"I want to go to a resort," Claudia clarifies. "I always wanted to watch the sunset on top of a mountain, and sip hot chocolate near a lake, and ice skate!"

I roll my eyes, tuning out of the conversation and returning to the plate filled with Nini's cooking. She expressed that she usually tries to incorporate Filipino options into everyday meals—but she also is open to suggestions.

When she told me that, she looked at me suggestively like I carried around a fucking recipe book from foster home to foster home.

I feel something tap my arm, and my attention snaps to the boy beside me. Nico's green eyes greet mine, and hold slight hesitation behind his irises. I drop the hard demeanor on my features.

"Yeah?" I prompt, watching as he opens his mouth but the silence precure his words. I cock a brow at him.

"Um," he swallows, gripping onto the small toy figure. "Can you...can you hand me some?"

He points to the tray of lumpia—which are Filipino spring rolls—sitting in front of us, just a couple of inches away from his grasp.

His eyes are pleading, but he doesn't make an attempt to grab the food himself. To do so, he would have to stand and reach over, drawing attention.

I sigh, but nonetheless, nod my head. I reach over, taking the metal tong sitting against the edge of the tray and pick up a couple of lumpias, bringing it to his plate. With each, I asked if it was enough and he continued to shake his head until the plate was entirely filled with lumpias.

When I'm finished, he smiles and offers me the softest goddamn thank you.

"Harlow," I hear someone hiss, forcing me to turn and meet Presley's gaze. His eyes urging, occasionally glancing down the table where Nini and Sebastian are conversing about the cabin. A silent reminder for our deal.