“You didn’t even tell Mom?” Walker barks out a laugh. “Oh, that’s rich.”
“What the hell is your problem?” I snap at my little brother, who seems to find a lot of satisfaction in my discomfort.
“Me? I have no problems. From what Alec tells me, you, on the other hand, have enough problems for all of us.”
“Well, Alec needs to learn how to keep his damn mouth shut,” I say through gritted teeth, narrowing my gaze on the brother, who’s actually supposed to have my back.
Walker is a spoiled brat. I’m used to him kicking me when I’m down. Alec, though, I expected better.
“It’s not like it’s some big secret.” Alec shrugs. “They were going to find out eventually.”
“Would someone please explain to me what’s going on?” my mom interjects.
“Didn’t realize you were such a gossip.” I keep going like my mother didn’t even speak.
“Didn’t realize you were such a sensitive baby,” Alec retorts.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem. You’re the one being an asshole to everyone.”
“Language.” I vaguely hear my mother say.
“How am I being an asshole?”
“Sitting over there brooding like a teenage girl.”
“I’m not brooding.”
“Says the man who about had an aneurysm when he walked in on me and LV hugging. Hugging, Penn.”
“So that’s what this is about? Me being irritated that my brother is consorting with the enemy.”
“She’s not the enemy!” He slaps the table. “She’s just a lost girl trying to find her way, and you’re treating her like she killed your cat and took a dump in your Cheerios.”
“Took a dump in your Cheerios...” Walker clamps a hand over his mouth to contain his outburst of laughter.
I shoot him a glare before my attention quickly returns to Alec.
“How I treat London is none of your business.”
“Only it is, because you weren’t the only one she left. If I can forgive her, so can you.”
“That’s not the same thing and you know it. You were a stupid kid that we felt obligated to let tag along.”
“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” His nostrils flare in anger.
“Oh, I’m about to...” I warn.
“That’s enough.” This time, when my mother cuts in, she does so in a way that leaves no room for argument, and we all snap to attention like we’re still little kids, knowing we’ve pushed her too far. “I asked you all here so that we could enjoy a meal together. Not so you could bicker like children.” She looks at each of us individually with a pointed look. “Your father would be ashamed.”
And just like that, our petty argument is long forgotten as a quiet disappointment falls over the table.
“Sorry, Mom.” Walker is the first to speak.
“Yeah, sorry, Mom.” Alec is the next to apologize.
All eyes land on me and despite the irrational anger still boiling in my veins, I finally concede.
