“My sleep was fine.”
“How about on the plane?” My fork drops, clanging against the china, and I stare at my sister. What does she know? Did she see something? Did Isabelle say something?
She shrugs and picks up a bread roll, pulling it apart with a promise of violence. “You seemed very comfortable with Isabelle. Far more so than the flight over.”
“Who’s Isabelle?” Mum asks, and there’s far too much curiosity in that question.
“Oh my god, it’s happening!” Grams jumps from her seat, then sits back down, picking up her wine glass and waiting for my sister to piss me off further.
“Nothing’s happening,” I say through clenched teeth.
“I think this photo begs to differ.” I can feel my soul leave my body. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“A photo?” Mum asks, leaning into Beth as she pulls her phone out of her pocket. Shit, what do I do? How do I explain this? Fucking think, you dickhead!
“Aww!” Mum has her hands clasped over her heart, while Grams looks ready to do cartwheels.
Caleb quickly stands from his chair, snatching my sister’s phone from her open palm. His glasses rest crooked across his face as he stares down at whatever incriminating evidence Beth has gathered. He looks up at me, a single eyebrow raised in question.Oh shit.
“We didn’t do anything!” I yell.
“That doesn’t look like nothing,” Beth says matter-of-factly.
With a mouth full of food, Mason leans over Caleb, chewing in my brother’s ear. “I thought you said she wasn’t hot?”
That does it.
Silverware rattles as I dive over the table to take the phone from Caleb. When I take in the photo, I see it’s from the plane. I don’t know why I was expecting to see us caught at the club. Maybe I assumed those moments afterwards–the hotel, the plane–were somehow protected. No one else was around, they were our little secret to hold. Or a complete figment of my imagination since they felt too good to be true. As I stare down at the photo of Isabelle snuggled against me, our handsalmost touching where they both rest on my stomach, for some unknown reason, I send it to myself.
“This is on the plane?” I say slowly.
“Yes, brother. Why? Was there somewhere else we may have seen you sleeping with Isabelle this weekend?”
It feels like my head is in a pressure cooker. All eyes are on me. I can’t take this. I need the attention gone.What the fuck do I say?My eyes dart around the table. Dad and Grandpa have identical expectant stares. Mason is obnoxiously chewing. Caleb’s still raising an eyebrow at me, and it feels like my guilt is reflected in the lenses of his glasses, and suddenly, I remember something. The redhead from the bar.Sorry, brother.
“Caleb likes a girl!”
My brother’s jaw drops, and I feel just a little bit of guilt for throwing him under the bus just to get the attention off me.
“How dare you!” Caleb’s pulling rank as he scolds me from across the table, while hysteria explodes around us.
“A girl? What is he talking about?”
“Isabelle was right!”
“Who is this Isabelle chick?”
“What’s her name? Where did you meet her?”
“After all I’ve done for you. This is how you repay me.” Caleb shakes his head, a deep grimace pulling at his lips—like some mediocre Don Corleone impression—and I sink into my chair.
I’m not ready to answer questions about Isabelle. I could have gotten away with denying anything to myself if it weren’t for that damn photo Beth took. Now, the evidence is there for everyone to see.
There’s something between Isabelle and me, whether I like it or not.
Chapter six
I run the sponge over the plate while my eyes stare out Mum’s kitchen window. My hands submerged in the warm, soapy water is like a calming balm to my thoughts.
