by Nicole Nwosu
Sam sat down next to me and pointed to my sandwich. He hummed in appreciation when I allowed him to take a bite out of it. Beatrice was staring at him. When she realized I was looking at her she scowled, turning away. “You don’t have plans tonight?” Sam asked. “Then I’m coming over.”
“You don’t want to go to the party? Hook up with someone? Beatrice maybe?”
Sam didn’t bother commenting on the jab. “I’ll come over to yours, Hazel.”
“It’s Friday night.” Sam walked into my house later in his usual wear. His car was parked in the driveway and he kicked off his shoes.
“I’m glad you know your days of the week.” Just then my dad came out of his office; he and Sam greeted each other pleasantly. Then Dad reached for his jacket. “Where are you going?” I asked.
“I have plans with Andrew’s dad,” he said.
“Wait, where’s Patrick?”
“He’s sleeping over at a friend’s house.”
So it would be just me and Sam alone in this house. Great. When my dad left, we headed up the stairs. Hanging out with Sam at school or the rec center seemed fine, but to be here without anyone around somehow made me uneasy.
“Does the boyfriend know you’re hanging out with me tonight?”
“He knows we’re friends and he’s fine with it,” I said, but I wasn’t sure that was even true.
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“I texted him,” I said, as we entered my room.
Sam’s eyes roamed the pictures on my wall until he settled on one of Mom when she was at university. “She played varsity football? Should’ve known by the football necklace in the other photos.”
“Yeah. No one was able to find that necklace after she died,” I commented. “It was her favorite.”
“I didn’t know you liked reading.” He referred to the stack of books on my desk.
“My mom owned a bookstore when I was a kid, so I had a lot of books growing up.”
He picked up a novel. “Good book.”
“I didn’t know you liked reading.” Sam continued looking through a few other books. “What about your parents? What do they do?”
“I’m sure you know my dad co-owns the family company. My mum’s a musician.”
That’s news. “Really?”
“Yeah,” said Sam. “Toured the UK in her early days. Music’s a big thing in our family. She and Aunt Liz would make everyone in the family play instruments growing up.”
“You play an instrument?” I asked.
“A bit of guitar.” He turned a book over in his hands. “My little brother—”
“You have a brother?” Clearly, I didn’t get the memo about a lot of new information dropping tonight, but the Cahills definitely seemed to have a lot of boys in their families.
A small smile played on his lips. “His name is Gregory—Greg. He’s twelve. He plays piano.”
I hesitated before asking my next question. “What about your sister? Did she play an instrument too?”
Sam’s hands stilled on the cover of one of my books. He leaned against my desk. “She liked singing. She went to an art school.”
“She must’ve been really talented.”
“She was.”
An awkward silence fell upon us, which was understandable. Sam didn’t like opening up. And I was a little stunned that he had. I think he was too.
Sam jumped on my bed, landing on his back. He took his jacket off and settled his arms behind his head. “Comfy bed.” He winked at me. “Care to join?”
Even though he was joking, I hit him with my pillow anyway. “Care to shut up?”
He tossed a pillow at me and I swatted it away, ready to hit him with my pillow again when he grabbed my arm and pulled me down. He tried taking the pillow away from me only to end up getting hit in the face, almost falling off my bed. He grabbed my arm as I laughed, lifting himself up to stabilize himself.
I detached myself from him. “Let’s find a movie.”
When Sam and I were in my basement, he looked through the cases of movies we had in a box. “For a girl who doesn’t seem to like romance, you sure do have a bunch of romantic comedies.”
“Andrew and I make fun of them.” Sam grabbed a DVD and held up one of Dad’s horror movies. I was not good with horror movies.
A mischievous expression crossed his face. “You won’t be scared of this movie?”
“Nope.” I knew he wasn’t buying it but he put the movie into the DVD player.
Not even an hour into the movie I was clutching the armrest beside me. The music was so suspenseful—I hated the fact that you knew something was going to happen but couldn’t hide. Sam kept eyeing my reactions as the movie progressed.
His knee pressed against mine, our arms not touching because I was leaning forward. The suspenseful music got louder and louder and I grabbed Sam’s arm. “It’s just a movie, Hazel.”
I paused the movie. “Based on a true story, it says.”
He took the popcorn bowl. “I’ll go get more. Don’t start the movie without me.”
I’m not even planning on finishing this movie at all.
He ran upstairs as I turned on my phone to check messages, unease coming over me. The feeling didn’t help as my leg bounced up and down and suddenly a voice said, “I’m going to get you and we can play forever and ever and—”
I screamed and jumped, turning around to find a laughing Sam behind the couch and popcorn on the ground. Moving past him, I made my way upstairs and to my room, my annoyance growing.
“Hazel!” Sam knocked on the other side of my door. “Open up.”
“You’re such a dumbegg,” I yelled back but he didn’t cease. In a flash of anger, I opened the door to see him holding himself up by the opposite wall. “You’re ridiculous,” I hissed.
“I’m ridiculous? Dumbegg? I can’t take the insult seriously.” Then Sam sighed, his delight in my mood fading. “Hazel.”
“No.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you. You were just sitting there with your back to me, and it just seemed so easy, and . . .” His tone had no sense of apology in it, only amusement. “Look, I’m sorry.”
That surprised me. He wasn’t the type of person to apologize. “Okay.”
“What? That’s all I get?”
“Were you expecting me to hand you flowers and shower you with kisses?”
“The flowers part, no. The kissing part? Go ahead.” He grabbed my laptop from my desk. “What do you want to watch? I promise no horror movies this time. I mean, not after a whole hour and thirteen minutes of the other one.”
“Do you always do that?” I asked, sitting cross-legged on my bed. “The time thing. You said the same thing at the park when we met. That our conversation was fifty-four seconds or something.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve always had a thing in my head that estimates how many seconds have passed by. It’s something I picked up a while ago.”
He pulled out his phone, text message notifications pinging on the home screen. “Is that Caleb or your fans?” I teased.
Sam tossed his phone to the end of the bed, and sat next to me. “It’s not my fault some of my fans find the need to message me.”
“They probably run away after they see how small you are,” I joked, and he glared at me for striking his ego where it hurt.
“Hazel, you can make fun of my face, my personality, and my attitude, but you can never make fun of him.”
“Him?” Sam’s cheeks turned a faint pink. “Oh my God, you’ve named it, haven’t you?”
“His name is Benjamin Ian the Great.”
A snort escaped me at the seriousness of his tone. “Seriously? You named it B. I. G.?”
The stupidity only entertained him, and I reached for my camera, taking a picture of him midlaugh. Sam
reached for my camera and I held it out of his reach. “Delete it,” he said.
He looked good when he was in a happy moment. “It’s a nice picture. You’re not frowning or brooding or being disgusting.” He grumbled under his breath, placing the laptop between us. As we watched another movie, my eyes drifted to my soccer ball. “When did you start playing soccer?”
Sam got up from my bed, looking at one of the video games on my dresser. “When I was six. I started off like Phillip, playing house league until I began playing competitively. Never had time for the school team back home.”
“Why don’t you play now? On the school team or a rep team here?” I asked.
“Sometimes you lose your passion,” he mumbled, before holding up a video game. “I’m going to win this.”
“Against me? Definitely not.”
The way he changed the subject reminded me of Jasmine. Both never talked about what bothered them.
11
Cahill Family
Cedric looked handsome in his dress shirt and blazer as we pulled into his driveway on the sunny but breezy Saturday afternoon.
I smoothened the simple violet dress Jasmine had told me to wear when I had called her last night in a panic that I didn’t have anything to wear. It was a dress I had received as a present from my dad’s mom one Christmas years ago that surprisingly still fit. My fingers tugged on my cardigan sweater as Cedric and I stared at the numerous cars lined up in the Cahill driveway and outside the Cahill house.
What kind of eight-year-old had a ball for a party? My confusion grew as people—mostly adults—stepped out of their cars.
We exited the car when I saw Caleb. “Charming.” He fell in step with us. Like Cedric, he was wearing a dress shirt, blazer, and pants.
“Here you are looking like a princess.” His compliment made me flush. As he acknowledged Cedric, nicely dressed people walked by us in the front yard, chatting the afternoon away. Caleb must have sensed my awe. “They know a lot of people.”
“You got that right,” I muttered. We stepped inside, people everywhere, buffet tables filled with pastries and plates. Waiters in sharp outfits carried trays of full champagne glasses. When we headed toward the living room, there only seemed to be more adults.
“Cahill parties are a matter of connections,” Caleb said. “Networking and lots of gossip.”
“Caleb?”
Caleb winced, taking a deep breath before facing the older woman who’d called his name. “Mrs. Mattias, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
She giggled. Oh God. She turned to Cedric with the same expression. When she looked at me she frowned. Caleb, in his most charming way, held her hands. “We have to get going but it was lovely seeing you again.”
Caleb pulled us out of the living room to the corridor. Cedric whispered, “There’re plenty of people like Mrs. Mattias. Wedding rings are forgotten at the door.”
“She used to be at every event during the summer,” Caleb added. “Let’s go find the birthday boy.”
Blue streamers, blue balloons, and plenty of entertainment meant for kids filled the entire backyard. A large tent was set up which waiters streamed in and out of—it was no doubt where food was going to be served later. Most of the adults were standing near the garden beds, talking as children ran around.
Phillip wasn’t hard to find, a blue mask on his face as he ran toward me. “Macy! I’m Leonardo from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.” He put his hands on his hips. In the blue long-sleeved shirt he was wearing along with his bow tie, he didn’t look cold on this breezy day. “I’m eight now!”
I handed him his present. “Here’s what I got you.”
“Thank you.” His eyes were joyful. “I can’t wait to open it.”
“I thought you didn’t like surprises.”
“Dad says to open it later when everyone goes home so people don’t get distracted.” What? “Hey, Caleb.”
Caleb fixed Phillip’s lopsided blue mask and straightened his shirt. “Little man, you’ve got to impress the ladies. You don’t want to look messy.”
Phillip pointed at a girl talking with a bunch of other kids their age. “She said I looked nice.”
Caleb leaned over to me, sounding accomplished. “Eight years old and already flirting.”
“You’re a bad influence.”
“I’m a good role model,” he said proudly.
Cedric grabbed hold of his little brother. “Anyway, show me the rest of your ninja turtle crew.”
As he and Phillip headed toward the kids, Caleb got in my face, putting on a fake dramatic voice: “He’s so cute, right? How did you land a guy like him? I’m so jealous.”
I playfully shoved him. “Shut up.”
“Macy, now you’re being rude.”
“That’s my job,” a voice said behind us. Sam wore clothes identical to Cedric’s, with a different colored shirt. He had a blazer over his dress shirt and, for once, wasn’t in his leather jacket, which surprised me. His hair was messier than usual, as if he had run his fingers through it multiple times.
He looked good—and he knew it. “You cleaned up nice,” Caleb said to him.
Sam shrugged, surveying the scene. “You too. Did you run into Mrs. Mattias?”
“Of course.” Caleb groaned, starting to move ahead. “Everyone’s probably at the pool house.”
Sam turned to me. “Nice dress.” His lips twitched as if he was about to smile. Or smirk.
I wasn’t going to stick around to find out. “Thanks.”
Cedric took my hand as I approached him. “I should probably give you the insight into the family—most of us are here.” Cedric led the way, walking in the direction of the pool house. He nodded at a woman leaning outside of the pool house, talking to a bunch of people. “That’s Natasha, Ivan’s fiancé.”
Whoa. “Ivan’s engaged?”
“Wedding’s in November. She’s in school for music. Violin.”
“You giving her the memo?” Sam caught up to us. Cedric ignored him.
In the pool house, groups of young adults stood in every corner, their conversations loud. No matter how extravagant their clothes were, they looked relaxed, happy to be away from the adults on the outside. Eyes were on us—no, on Sam and Cedric. They both disregarded the stares, and Sam gestured for two people to come over. “Hazel, this is Lucas and Joey. Cousins.”
Like Cedric and Sam, they were wearing similar outfits; in fact, from my observations, most men were following the same dress code, every one of them related. Lucas and Joey were identical twins with very different hairstyles and personalities, judging from the way Joey looked around the room like he didn’t have a single care in the world and Lucas’s shyness.
“Do you guys live in town?” I asked.
“Yup,” Joey said. “We go to the arts school downtown.”
“Hamilton Academy of the Arts, right?”
Lucas nodded. “I go for art and Joey’s there for music.”
“Macy!” Another voice called out and Ivan slung his arms around the twins. “I see you’ve met some of my cousins.”
“I didn’t know you were engaged,” I said.
The girl came up beside him. It wasn’t hard to miss the delight on his face at the sight of her. “This is Natasha. Nat, this is Macy, Ced’s girlfriend.”
Natasha greeted me. She had bright-red hair and blue eyes. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Ivan looked around. “I’m always reminded of how much alcohol is needed every time one of us has a birthday and our parents decide to use it to—”
“Exploit us?” Sam suggested. The familiar smirk rose to his lips when he caught sight of a girl across the room talking to a few others.
“Not exactly the word I was looking for,” Ivan mumbled as Sam sent the girl a two-fingered wave before he frowned at Ivan. Ivan glanced at Cedr
ic and me. “Is he pissed off or something? Another fight with Dad? I’m telling you, buddy, it’s all right to be pissed off. It’s better to be pissed off than pissed on.”
“What?” Natasha and I said out loud, and she hit him lightly on the chest, telling him to stop talking.
“You don’t have your camera?” Sam asked me, ignoring his cousin. “I’m guessing you didn’t delete any pictures from last night.”
“You mean the pictures of you losing horribly?” I taunted. “It’s not my fault you sucked.”
Sam’s attention went to another person. “Diana is here.”
“Who’s Diana?”
“Close family friend.” He sounded displeased.
“Who’s had a thing for Sam since we were kids.” Cedric laughed and Sam shook his head, surprising me with their calm exchange.
“I’ll see you all later.”
“You guys hang out a lot?” Cedric asked as his cousin moved through the crowd. Sam always played soccer with me after my practices, the two of us speaking for hours; Caleb was there sometimes. Sam had also managed his way into my friend group, which I didn’t mind because he and the boys found more things in common every day. I guess we did hang out a lot. The wary look in Cedric’s eyes suggested he didn’t like that.
“He’s my friend,” I said. Cedric’s expression didn’t change. When his eyes fell back on me, I leaned forward and kissed him chastely. “Nothing to worry about, okay?”
“Cedric!” a guy called, gesturing for him to come over and sit in a large, empty space on a couch.
“Macy, this is Peter,” Cedric said. “Cousin from my mom’s side.”
“You’re the girlfriend,” Peter exclaimed, shaking my hand.
“Macy,” one of the girls said. She had fake blue highlights in her hair and wore a dress that was so short I was grateful she was crossing her legs. “Where did you get your dress?”
“It was a present.”
Cedric took that moment to whisper in my ear. “Diana.” Oh.
“You’re friends with Sam?” Her demeanor reminded me of Beatrice, and her condescending tone irritated me.
“Really?” Peter asked. “Because Sam doesn’t have friends except that Caleb guy. He’s always been a little distant.”
