“Game faces on, Brown. Thiswill bethe performance of a lifetime.” He grabs both my shoulders, and I roll my eyes.
“Okay,Christopher Nolan.” I mutter beneath my breath, and he opens the door.
The kitchen is chillier than it should be for the summer heat that is taking over this village. A shiver runs down my body the second Emily takes something out of the oven.
“Cold?” West asks, and I nod. “That must suck.” He snickers like a little child, and before I have the chance to even slap his arm, his mom beats me to it.
“Give her your jumper, you tosser!” Emily slaps the back of his head harshly, and he winces, then begrudgingly moves to the nearby wooden chair where his sweater lies and passes it to me.
I accept it, andoh my god,this is the softest fabric my fingers have ever touched… I hurry to put it on, and his minty and forest scent invades my brain like some type of drug. I close my eyes for half a second, completely thrown off by what appears to be some type of fog clogging my judgment.
“You’re so obsessed with me…” West whispers in my ear, and another shiver,a different shiver,runs down my entire body.
“What?Gross.” And Ilightlypush him aside, considering his mom is watching.
“I always knew this would happen…” She stares at us while adding some type of condiment on top of the very well-cooked chicken legs. “It wasinevitable. Besides, I couldn’t fathom another girl being my daughter-in-law. They wouldn’t be you, Maddie, and they wouldn’t push Jacob to his maximum, that’s for sure.” She points the silverware at us, and my heart is rapidly beating.I’m not particularly enjoying this conversation.
“They sure wouldn’t be.” West gulps beside me, and then his joker façade is back on. “They wouldn’t annoy me so much, that’s for sure.”
“Jacob Louis West, you insult your girlfriend-No, not your girlfriend, our Maddie, one more time, and I swear to god, I will smack the rudeness out of you.” She glares at him, and it’s likea warm blanket fell on top of me, comforting me. She’s too kind. Too important for me to do this to her. My dad is, too, but she stepped up when she didn’t have to, you know? It’s like I owe her extra or something…
“Jesus, Mom, this is how we flirt, it’s almost embarrassing how you know nothing about modern dating…” He jokingly throws back, and she shakes her head, daring him to do it again.
“What’s embarrassing is your behavior and the fact that you still wear Superman underpants. Now lead her to the dining room, if you will?”
I lightly smile at that, and then his fingers brush my back, pushing me towards the dining room.
Alana walks in, bag in hand, seemingly heading out.
“Where are you going?” I ask, and it came out too panicky.
“Uhh, dinner. At your house. Why?” She levels me with that early teen stare as if I’m stupid or something. I swallow my worries.
“You’re not staying? So it’s just gonna be me, your brother, and- and your parents?”
“Yeah… My sincere apologies.” She lays her hand on mine as if she understands she lives in a house full of nutters and thenbounces.
“Andyou’re panicking…”
“Your sister is not gonna be here to be our buffer! Of course I’m panicking! Oh my god, I don’t know if I can do this- I never met someone’s parents before!What if they don’t like me?”
“You mean the people who changed your diapers and went to our godawful school recitals?”
I grab his collar, manic eyes, I’m sure.
“As your girlfriend? What if I’m not everything I’m made out to be?” I stare at the ground, insecurity filling my every sense, and my anxiety.
“Brown, for better or for worse, trust me, you are everything and anything you are made out to be.” I look up to his daring eyes, and it’s like they can see right through me. Through my bullshit, through my doubting, through my deepest fears, and through my truest soul. Throughme.
I nod tightly, but still, throughout half of this dinner, I feel like a ghost. I’m there. I nod and here and there, but don’t say more than four words. It’s like my brain is muffling everything around me. I laugh when I’m supposed to and stay serious when approaching earnest topics, but that’s it. Until… The story is told. The one thing that can wake me up from the dead.
I look up to Joey and Emily’s adoring eyes towards each other, and my heart squeezes.
“They think telling this story over and over reinforces their love.” West complains, but I just listen intently. “Brown?” He nudges me, and I snap out of it. “You’re not pretending to be shocked that I know how to use reinforced in a sentence?”
But I choose to ignore it and listen to the married couple in front of me.
“She thought I was British because I was faking a flawless accent, and throughout the night we would find Americans and make fun of them for being so dumb.” Emily cringes at that, like it happened yesterday, and Joey just shakes his head, proud he pulled off an English accent. “And somehow I got her number, and next thing she knows she’s meeting me in a coffee shop in New Castle. When she comes up to me, I start speaking like I always spoke, strong Jersey accent on me, and you should have seen her face-” Joey is laughing too much to even finish his sentence, and Emily is covering her face, red as ever.
