"What a bitch!" Carla says in biology, after I tell her what Ren said to me this morning. "Are you ok?"
I shrug. I will be. "I try not to think about it."
Carla makes a face, "Sisters." She said this with a touch of malice. Her own sister pissed her off more than Grayson's parents pissed him off, but I never heard Carla really complain about it as much. The difference was, that Carla didn't do up dramatics when it came to her family, like Grayson. And Carla did not have as many options as Grayson, nor a car like Grayson, nor a need to bombard me within saves me's like Grayson, as if I could, as if I do up Spider-Man in my free time. "Do you think Ren's fucked?"
I shrug, even though that question surprised me. And made me feel gross.
It's not something I think is legal to think about. Your siblings having sex.
All I knew is what they told me. If they had had sex, they hadn't done it at home. I was pretty certain.
They hadn't told me anything.
But now, they all knew my business.
"Whatever the situation is," I say, "She's clearly not getting enough, cos she's been extra bitchy."
"Wow," Carla replies, writing down an answer I know is wrong, so I swap papers with her. She smiles, writing down an answer she does know on mine. "So what are you gonna do about Saturday?"
"Meet his parents," I say. "I don't care what Ren says."
"And?"
I look at her, "What do you think?"
"Let him know if you aren't comfortable."
"I will," I say. I have no problem with it now. I had lived my life consisting of being quiet and accepting inconsistencies and discomfort. But now, I had to stop that. If not slowly. I liked taking things slowly. It gave you more time to asses things.
"Good," she nods, scribbling, "Ain't no one gonna fuck with you as long as I'm around."
And I smiled at her like a fool. She squeezed my face and told me I was looking cute today, like friends did, even if you looked like utter shite, and my heart did that glowing thing, like a tiny sun, radiating within.
"What should I wear on Saturday?" I ask Taron, when he opens his maths book at break. He frowns.
"Clothes?"
I raise a brow, "You know what I mean."
"Wear what you want. They just wanna meet you, cos I told them about you."
"What did you say?"
"That I was seeing you."
"Oh. Should I wear jeans?"
"Wear jeans if you want to, Tate," he chuckled.
"A dress?" I didn't have a dress. Well, actually. I had last worn a dress at prom which I had wanted to donate promptly after but Haven told me to keep it tor "memories sake," even though my distinct memory in it was throwing up at Jake's party, and before that, only funny little pinafores, when I was like five?
I wasn't about to wear my prom dress, but I'd wear it if it would please his parents. I was feeling even more nervous about it now.
He looked at me, "You're making this really hard for yourself."
"Sorry."
"Don't be sorry," he says, "Just wear what you'd normally wear if you're going out."
"Ok." I think on it, watching him write some things down.
He gets them right.
My smart guy.
I find Jae as I'm walking to the toilet during the second lesson of biology today, walking down the halls aimlessly.
"Where you going?" I ask.
He flinched a little, but stared straight through me, looking like a ghost. "Are you gonna be sick?"
"Nah," he says, "Just going back to admin, innit."
"Is everything ok, g?" I ask.
He smiled, "Yeah," he gives my hand a little nudge with his, and walks past me, hands in pockets. That little nudge gave me all the reassurance I needed that nothing between us had changed. He was still my brother and he didn't see me any differently. I could tell.
I wait, just to make sure he's going where he said he would. He does, making a right fit the office, and then I go to the toilet.
I wash my hands and walk back to lesson.
Taron's waiting for me after school in the car park, head buried in his maths book. I pull it down, "What's going on?"
"I'm trying to revise for the mock. You should be too,"
"I'll take your suggestion into consideration," I smile.
"Thanks," he smirks, touching his forehead to mine, "Glad to see that my opinion matters that much to you."
We get in and he drives me. I look at him and study him. Suddenly we're twenty five years old and we're going home after work, to our nanny (we will have one, because we'll be rich and live in a big, fuck off house like his parents) with our two little children and I almost choke on idiocy. Who wants that?
Nah, seriously. There's more to life than that. I mean, by all means, do you, if that's your thing. But me. . . No, I don't think I want that.
But I still like him and want him. I want him. Bad. And I don't feel shocked. Maybe my periods coming.
I want him to do more than kiss me today. But he has to study. I don't want to get in the way of that, but I really want to, if you get my gist. My hand runs through his soft hair and it's waves. I hear him sigh. But not out of irritation. I know that sigh.
"I want to," I say.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Ok."
"I want you."
He turns red, but reaches to my thigh and rubs it. He wants to just as much as I do.
He then looks past me, "They're probably waiting."
"Probably," I pull away from him to get my bag, but he pulls me back to him before I can get out, to kiss me once more.
"Call me."
"I will,"
"Don't forget."
"I won't," I pat his cheek, stubble grazing my fingers, and I get down, shutting the door.
I walk down the walkway, and Millie rushes to me, before her teacher even allows her, but the woman nods at me. I catch Millie before she can bowl me over and I ruffle her hair. Eustace comes over on his own, but I don't try to ruffle his hair. He might try and bite me.
But he doesn't say anything or huff or whine or shout or complain. He's quiet, until we get to the nursery.
"I did more shark work at school today. My teacher liked our drawings." Aww, we had a thing.
I nod nonchalantly, even though I'm feeling rather good about myself right now.
"That's good," I tell him. We go inside and I sign in to get Maisie.
When we're back outside, Millie asks, "Where's your boyfriend today?"
"He has to do his own homework, like you two," I say as I strap her sister in.
"Are you going to get married?" she asked me and I frowned. I was never the little girl that dreamed of her wedding. And neither did I ask anybody about their plans to. Only because my mother never had one in my lifetime, and my sisters said that marriage would be the end of their independence. And sanity. You can like weddings and marriage. I don't want to shame you into thinking otherwise. I'm talking about me. I just didn't see it working out for me. If I'd have one, maybe I'd go to a registry. I didn't like the idea of a white dress or a dress period, and I didn't like flowers or wedding cake, because it's always so hard and crumbly. I had been to a couple of weddings and they were all shit. Mine couldn't be any better. And was I going to marry anyone? Who would I marry? Taron? Grayson?
I almost laugh.
"No," I say, "I have school tomorrow," I say, even though I knew that wasn't what Millie meant.
"Do you?" Oh she's so cute.
"Yeah, I go to big school and I have a lot of work to do, so that doesn't leave me with any time to plan a wedding," I tell her.
As we start down the road, she tugs at my skirt. "I'll plan you're wedding for you so you can do your work."
"Alright," I chuckle.
"Weddings are silly," Eustace comments. Ah, there he is.
"You're silly," Millie shoots back. I smile. She's being brave.
I have to make food again, so I manage to find some spaghetti and blend some tomatoes for sauce. I hunt for some mince when Eustace asks me to help him with his shark project.
I'm kneeling amongst frozen fish, steak and chicken and I'm really cold, "Hold on a sec, Eustace," I say, "I'm trying to make your dinner."
"I don't want dinner, I want to do the shark project," he stamps his foot and I sigh.
"Eustace," I say, with base in my voice. He looks startled, "Go and wait. Now."
"I'm going to tell my dad that you talked to me like that."
"And imma tell your dad that you're being a rude little boy." He pauses. Got him, "You're dad wasn't pleased that you slept down here last night."
"You're lying. Dad wasn't mad at me."
"I told him not to be," I said haughtily, pulling out a bag of mince with a flourish. Now....to put all this shit back in. Fuck.
"You'd better not take too long," he warns me, but he leaves with his pencil and paper, and me in peace.
