“Nice to meet you, Clarissa.”
“You can call me Clary. I like your hair.”
Sophie touches a strand and blushes. “Thank you.”
“I like your accent too. Are you from London?”
“Yes, I am.”
Mom appears down the hallway, wiping her hands on the apron she has on. “What are you doing there standing by the door? Get in here.”
I break away from Sophie to hug my mother. It’s a habit, and I don’t realize she could sense something is different with me until too late. I stiffen, and she immediately leans back and looks me in the eye. “Is everything okay?”
I take a couple of steps back, running a hand through my hair. “Sure. Where’s Annabelle?”
“In the living room. Come here, I don’t want to get up from the couch.”
Mom looks over my shoulder and smiles. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your girlfriend, dear?”
Shit. I totally spaced out. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Mom, this is Sophie.”
“Hello, Mrs. Bradley.” Sophie extends her hand for a handshake, but Mom pulls her into a hug too.
“You can call me Noreen.”
Sophie is also a bit stiff, but she does return my mother’s hug. “Nice to meet you, Noreen.”
“Well, I’d better get back in the kitchen. I hope you kids are hungry. I made a lot of food.”
Fuck.
Clarissa runs ahead of us, and then Sophie leans in and whispers, “Did you know we’d be having dinner?”
“No.”
I’m annoyed as hell when I walk into the living room. Annabelle should have warned me. She’s sitting in her favorite chair and texting on her phone.
“Hey, why did you let Mom cook so much food?”
“I didn’t know she was until I got home.” She looks at Sophie. “Hi, I’m Annabelle.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sophie.”
Annabelle keeps staring in silence to the point that I think I should tell her to cut it out. But then she blurts out, “You are super pretty. No wonder Vaughn didn’t mind too much getting bitten by you.”
My eyes bulge. “Annabelle!” Then I look nervously at Clarissa.
She wrinkles her nose. “Eww, that’s gross.”
Sophie’s face turns beet red, making me want to throttle my sister.
“I think you should tell Mom now and not wait until you’re sitting at the table and can’t eat anything,” Annabelle adds, unbothered by her slipup.
“Why can’t Vaughn eat?” Clarissa asks.
“Yes, why can’t you eat, Vaughn?” Mom asks as she enters the room.
My throat becomes tight, and my pulse accelerates. I look at Sophie, all panicked and shit. She smiles and gives me a nod that says “You got this.”
