As her arms drop from around Cam, her eyes meet mine. She’s still smiling, but not with the same warmth she gave my brother. “Ember, sweetheart.”
She wraps her arms around me and runs a hand down the back of my head.
“You look—” It’s like she doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. Her eyes rake over me, her nose scrunching up when she notices my lack of makeup, but she hides her disgust with a smile.
“Great, Mom,” Cam interjects. “She looks great.”
Cam gives me an apologetic look, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, and we follow our mom into the kitchen, where my dad’s getting the turkey out of the oven.
“There they are.” He smiles. “How was the drive?”
“Snowy, but the roads weren’t too bad,” I respond.
“I told you, you should’ve come down last night,” she begins. “It was clear skies until about six hours ago.”
“We couldn’t, mom. Em had a prior commitment.”
“Ah, yes. Another commitment.”
“Sorry that my mid-terms conflicted with your schedule. I’ll try to get the professor to change them next time.” My words aren’t loud enough for her to hear them, but by the laugh that Cam plays off as a cough, I’m sure he did.
She heads to the cupboard and grabs the fancy plates, even though it’s just us, to set out. And by the time we sit to eat, I feel like my social clock has already worn out.
It’s the same old questions, usually directed toward Cam and minimally directed at me. But I don’t mind not getting asked anything… I’m used to it at this point, and I don’t know what I’d even say if—
“Are you seeing anyone?” My dad asks, and I choke on my turkey when I realize he’s talking to me.
Declan’s texted me three times since I got here, two of which were after we sat at the table, but I didn’t respond. I was hoping to avoid thewho are you textingquestion that most nosy parents ask anytime their kid picks up a phone.
“Hmm?”
“Campbell says you’re rarely at the apartment,” he continues. “I always assumed there was someone you were seeing, and he just wasn’t telling me.”
“Ember is not seeing anyone.” My mom scoffs while I respond, “I’m not seeing anyone.”
Except I am. And now I’m not only hiding it from Cam but officially lying to my family about it.
“Mom.” Cam frowns.
“What?” She wonders. “I know your sister. She’s not the dating type.” I know what she really means by the condescending way the words,not the dating type, leave her mouth. I’m not the type of girl someone would date. In her eyes, I’m not ‘pretty’ enough to find someone.
“Maybe if she put on a little makeup,” she reaches her hand out as if she’s going to touch my face, “and cover up this scar.”
“Mom.” This time there’s a sense of warning in Cam’s voice.
“Actually, I talked to this plastic surgeon, and he—”
“Mom!” Cam yells, smacking the table and stunning us all. He eyes her and shakes his head, almost as if he’s silently telling her toshut up.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” I say again, trying to avoid the tears in my eyes as I twirl my fork in my mashed potatoes. “School’s just been keeping me really busy. I have this project, so I’m always working on it at the library or Declan’s house.”
I freeze. My eyes go wide, hoping they missed the end of that.
“Declan?” My dad wonders.Shit. “As in Sanderson?” I nod. “I always liked that kid. He’s got drive.”
And he isn’t too bad at kissing stuff, either.
“He’s cute,” my mom adds. “Is he seeing anyone? A boy like him must have a girlfriend.”
