by Mia Hoddell
“I … um, I don’t really get on with my family. As you can see they’re all rather loud and well …”
“You’re not?”
I nod, not sure why I admitted that to a complete stranger. Thinking I might as well make the most of it, I try to focus on Kevin. However, I don’t even get one question out when a loud, foghorn-like voice cries my name. “Neve! I can’t believe you’re out in public. I was almost certain you’d avoid us. What’s it like leaving the house for the first time in … how long has it been?”
Standing, I embrace the woman reluctantly, knowing it’s expected of me. “Aunt Maggie, how are you? And I’ve not been avoiding anyone.” Cow. You would think that because I avoid you I’ve become a recluse and shut myself off from society. No doubt Mum has fed that belief. I keep the thought to myself and force a strained smile onto my lips.
She hums dubiously. “Of course you have. I haven’t seen you at a family get together in three years.”
“I’ve been busy,” I lie, hoping she won’t press the issue. The truth is I have avoided all events because they’re irritating and childish. If putting up with the loud relatives who make fun of me for being quiet and hiding in a corner isn’t enough, they then always try to change me. They bring out a new game every year that involves being in the spotlight—a situation that makes me cringe. Not once do they allow me to sit out. Instead I’m forced to play many rounds of Charades and Pictionary … and those are the best ones. Anytime I would try to leave or get out of it, they would all gang up on me for being anti-social.
“Nonsense. You’ve always had something against the get-togethers. Oh well, it’s not like anyone notices you missing I suppose. You always were so quiet. Have you seen somebody about that yet?”
My palm is twitching to bitch slap her, but I don’t. Rather, with a dismissive glance, I ignore all of her comments. Bringing myself up to my full height—something I rarely do as it leaves me exposed considering most of Mum’s side don’t even reach five foot two—I look down at her and say, “It was great catching up with you, Aunt Maggie, if you’ll excuse me.”
Without waiting for her to reply, I push past her and make a beeline for Blake. On the way over though, I’m suddenly accosted again.
“Oh my God, is that you, Neve! I barely even recognise you. I can’t believe you’ve stayed so skinny.”
I bite back the retort of ‘I wish I could say the same’ and smile politely at another one of my aunts who also has no filter between her mouth and her brain.
“What can I say? Good genes I guess.” I shrug noncommittally.
“Well it’s lucky you have, what with you being holed up inside all of the time. I’m both surprised and envious.”
If she ate healthier or exercised then she wouldn’t need to envy me, I think, but only respond with another shrug. This is why I hate these events. My mum’s side are all opinionated. They like to let you know exactly what they’re thinking all of the time. They all love to talk and gesture erratically when speaking and I couldn’t be more different. It means they don’t know how to handle me, I make them uneasy and they treat me like I have an illness. It’s the reason I’ve tried my best to cut them off.
Before I can say something I regret, Blake is at my shoulder. His arm falls casually around my waist and I see him give a strained smile to my devil aunt. “I’m sorry, but could I borrow Neve for a moment?” he says in his sweetest voice. I don’t bother introducing him, not feeling the desire to become the family freak show once more for actually turning up and having a boyfriend. Anyway, I’m sure Mum will inform them all after I’ve gone.
Letting Blake lead me away, we head over to his table that has cleared. Most couples are out on the dance floor, either watching the bride and groom, or taking part. He must catch me observing them because his next question takes me off guard. “You want to dance?”
I snort, collapsing on his lap. “Of course not, you can’t be serious!” The idea sends my mind into a panicked spin. My eyes are wide with horror and my palms become clammy. I can’t let go in front of people like that. They’ll laugh at me.
“Relax, Stripes. I was just kidding.” His hand caresses my back, a single finger trailing up and down my spine, enabling me to ease into him.
“I hate you,” I murmur, leaning into his chest. His arm comes round my front and his cheek rests against my hair.
“No you don’t. And anyway, if this is you hating me, I can’t wait to see what you do when you love me.”
I sigh dramatically so he can feel my whole body inflate and deflate against him.
He chuckles in response and presses his lips to the side of my head. “How much longer do you want to stay?”
“Oh, Neve, you can’t leave yet. There’s still the cake to cut, and we have to wave off the happy couple.” I don’t know how he heard Blake’s comment, but my uncle is staring down at us both in disapproval.
“We have to travel back, and I need to get up early tomorrow. Therefore, we won’t be able to stay much longer.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but his condescending tone becomes even more pronounced. “Neve, you should be here. This isn’t a Christmas party where you can hide away, it’s a wedding. I know it might not be your scene, but it’s not about you. This is my daughter’s day.”
“And I’m trying not to ruin her day. Nobody will notice whether I’m here or not.”
“I don’t know what your problem is with everyone, Neve, but you seriously need to buck up your ideas. We’re your family, we are the only ones who will love you unconditionally and be there for you when you fail. Remember that, because right now you’re acting like a child.” He storms off, leaving another chink in my armour that is rapidly being punctured by their words. It’s the same old story; even though I have outperformed every one of their kids in most things, they still talk to me like a child, thinking they need to be patronising for me to understand.
I’m introverted, not stupid.
“You want to leave? Say the word and we’ll go now.”
“Yes, I’ve served my time and I’d rather leave before they can do any more damage.”
He kisses my head, just above my ear. “For the record, what he said was unjust. You haven’t done anything and are none of those things.”
I only nod in response, standing. Automatically my gaze scans the room, taking inventory of where everyone is. People are starting to flock towards the table with the cake on top of it and smiling to myself, I decide the distraction will provide the perfect cover for our escape.
“Come on, let’s go now. No one will notice until after and by then it will be too late.” Blake takes my hand, and casting one last look at the room we head for the exit.
“Have you got everything?”
“Right now I really don’t care. I’m pretty sure I have, but I’d rather leave it behind than risk being stopped.”
Blake’s response is just to squeeze my hand and lead me briskly from the room. We are able to make it to the car without being noticed, and only then does Blake slow our pace.
“Do you want to tell your mum?”
“Just drive, I’ll text her once I feel we’re at a safe distance.”
“Stripes, she can’t do anything once we’re on the road.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her to call the cops. Just go. She doesn’t deserve the courtesy after the stunt she pulled in there with Kevin.”
Blake laughs, the sound musical and light-hearted.
“If I remember correctly, you didn’t find it so funny when he was standing in front of us.”
He shrugs. “I was making it clear you’re mine. The poor guy didn’t need to be given any false hope.”
“Sure …” I state, but let the issue drop because, in all truth, I didn’t have a problem with how Blake reacted. “I don’t think she likes the idea of us dating.”
“Oh well, she’ll get used to it or lose out.”
Reaching over he takes my hand and turns his head to ca
st me a smile. “You’re handling this surprisingly well.”
“It’s because you were there. Thank you for everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Stripes. I’ll always be there.”
I feel strangely content for having just mixed with my family. “I would kiss you if you weren’t driving.”
“I’ll claim it later.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Blake
I can’t believe how well she’s taking it all. Throughout the entire drive home Neve laughs and jokes with me, seeming unaffected by the, quite frankly, harsh comments from her family. And those were only the ones I heard. I assume that the further we get away from them and the closer we get to home, the quicker her good mood will deteriorate. Yet there’s no sign of that happening. Even when she ignores three calls from her Mum she stays happy.
Back at home and curled up on the sofa in front of the TV, Neve’s lying on my lap. I have one arm outstretched along the back of the chair while the other rests on her hip, drawing small circles with my thumb. A little halogen fire is the only source of light, bathing the living room in a warm glow that banishes the winter weather outside. Neve has picked out a movie, but I’m not really sure what it is. I’ve spent the last half an hour studying every curve on her body or marvelling at the different shades of brown and auburn in her hair when the moving fire sweeps over them. Whether she’s paying attention either I can’t be sure, but she’s unusually still.
“Stripes? You still awake?” I whisper, placing a hand on her shoulder. At my touch she turns to lie on her back, gazing up at me. Her hair fans out around her and she has a thoughtful—but sad—expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Reaching up, I run a finger over her forehead, only the tip grazing her. My touch relaxes the creases that have appeared between her eyebrows, yet she still looks deep in thought. Something is obviously playing on her mind.
“Do you ever wish you’d been born differently so you could fit in?”
I open my mouth to answer her, but what the hell am I going to say to a question like that? The truth is I’ve never had problems fitting in and Neve knows it. This is going to sound arrogant, but I was one of those people everyone liked. I wasn’t in the super popular crowd, but girls liked me for my looks and I got on with most of the guys. I never suffered like Neve did with confidence and people’s constant opinions about her personality. In school it was most noticeable for her. Neve was the perfect student; she worked hard, was never disruptive, and got top grades. However, at every parent’s evening, the teachers would pick on her for being too quiet and not volunteering answers enough in class. They always told her mum that she was a great student, just too quiet. Likewise those who didn’t take the time to know her judged blindly. I tried my best to include her and obliterate the comments, but some kids are assholes and always will be. Even if Neve said they didn’t bother her, by her reactions to them I knew they did.
That’s the story of Neve’s life really. She works hard, is loving, kind, and a great friend but all people see is her shyness. Yet that’s the thing that gets me; Neve isn’t shy. I’ve seen her walk into a room and command the attention like a professional. She’s given speeches when she’s needed to, and she’s even performed in a play. People think that because she doesn’t talk to new people there’s something wrong with her.
I know better.
Neve’s quietness can stem from a number of things. The first is that she doesn’t know the person and small-talk makes her uncomfortable because she doesn’t see the point in it. If there’s no relevance to the conversation, Neve finds it hard to engage. The second is that she prefers one-to-one situations. In a group Neve prefers to sit back and observe and I can’t blame her for that because living with her family, everyone is always vying to be heard and Neve won’t fight for attention. Another reason is the person might put her on edge, have done something in the past, or have a bad reputation. Neve is a great judge of character, probably from reading so many people. If Neve says someone is bad news, you should probably listen. So it’s not that she’s a quiet person; she’s just selective. With people she’s comfortable with you can’t shut her up, and I’m talking from experience.
“Stripes, you don’t need to change. You’re great as you are.”
“I wish I was more like you, though. Nothing fazes you; you take it all in your stride and go for things. Me? I have to think about them for weeks to build up the courage.”
“Don’t talk like that, Neve. You’re perfect.”
She rolls back over to face the TV, using her hand and my legs as a pillow. “Only you say that,” she mumbles and I flick her ear. Her self-deprecation is frustrating at times. For someone so smart she can be incredibly dense. She squeals at my action, her hand cupping the side of her face to prevent any more attacks.
“I’m the only one who matters.”
She snorts a laugh and although it isn’t as full as I would like, I’ll take it.
“Seriously, why is it so hard for people to understand me? Did I really act that badly at the wedding?”
“Stripes, you didn’t do anything. Your family is an unreasonable bunch of assholes. Don’t overthink this please. This is why I didn’t want you going in the first place. What they said was ridiculous, untrue, and offensive. I hate that they do this to you.” I pause, and then mutter under my breath, “They always hurt you.”
“They’re still my family, Blake. I can’t cut them off like my ex-friends.”
“Why not?”
“Because … I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose with the hand that isn’t on her hip. “Answer me one question. Do you believe what they say about you?”
There’s silence for a minute. A few times Neve tries to speak but only a stammer comes out as the words she wants to say get lodged in her throat. Finally she manages something decipherable.
“I don’t know.” It’s barely a whisper, and the rustle of the sofa material covers it partly as she pulls herself off my lap to sit cross-legged next to me. Her whole body deflates, her head hung when she continues. “I know I shouldn’t believe them … a small part of me doesn’t. But when you hear things enough—from people who supposedly love you unconditionally—it’s hard not to take to heart. I mean, if those who are always meant to have your back think something’s wrong, then there has to be, right?”
My heart’s being torn in two at her words. I place my fingers under her chin, making her eyes meet mine. They’re tear laced, one blink away from spilling over. “There is nothing wrong with you, you understand?” My voice is insistent, hoping she’ll get the message.
“But—”
“No buts, Neve. Just because they’re your family it doesn’t mean they will stand by you, support you, and accept you. Family is a label. Just because you’re born into one it doesn’t mean you have to stay and put up with them if they hurt you. Your family are the people who see you for who you are and love you as that person. Blood relatives are just that. You’re connected to them by genetics, but your family can be whoever you want.”
She doesn’t move or react to my words. Rather she focuses on the muted TV, allowing the silence to drag on. I figure she’s still mulling everything over inside of her mind; I can almost hear the cogs grinding as she talks herself into a deeper pit of emotions. Instead of pulling her from them, I allow the thoughts to run their course. Neve needs to get it out of her system and consider every minute detail. I hate seeing it as she’s only torturing herself, but that’s the way she is.
“What are you doing for Christmas? It’s only a week away.” Neve’s words startle me. I had been lost to my own thoughts and wasn’t expecting her to change the subject. Surprisingly, her words sound clear and devoid of any painful emotions.
“Uh … staying with my family I think. I haven’t made up my mind yet.” Because she’s moved once more so she’s lying flat on her back and facing me, I see her expression fall.
It’s only subtle, but the corner of her lips droop and her eyes become sunken.
“Oh … okay.”
I replay my words, trying to figure out what I have said to garner her expression. It doesn’t take long, and instantly I’m backtracking, trying to comfort her. How could I be so stupid after the conversation we’ve just had? I’m not normally the one to hurt Neve.
“Of course, my family would love to see you so you’re always welcome to come with me. Alternatively, we could always stay here and have our own Christmas. We can get a tree and decorations … do the full works if that’s what you want. Unless you want to spend it with your mum.”
Despite being twenty-one, Neve’s eyes light up at my words. She’s always loved Christmas. It is the one day her mum always makes special. They spend it alone or with her grandparents, and Neve tells me it’s the only day they don’t fight. They cook the turkey together, make mince pies, and watch cheesy movies.
“Which one do you want?”
“Whichever makes you happiest,” I state honestly. Seriously, if she wanted to spend Christmas camping in the middle of a frozen wasteland, with nothing around for miles, I’d do it for her.
She sits up, straddling my lap, and a jolt of electricity spikes through me when she winds her arms around my neck. “I really don’t deserve you,” she murmurs, leaning into me. I can feel every curve pressed against me, her nose almost touching mine she’s so close. It makes my mouth dry, my throat suddenly not working so all I can do is gawp at her. She can probably feel every part of me against her—including my arousal straining against my jeans—and my lips part on impulse. My hands slide down her back to cup her ass, subtly holding her in place against me.
Ever so slowly, as if she knows what she’s doing to me by making me wait, Neve closes the gap between us. Her lips are soft as they caress mine, but almost as soon as they touch me, they’re gone again. I open my eyes to find her grinning at me, a sparkle back in her eyes as she tries to hold back a laugh at the disappointment I’ve failed to hide.
