Page 21 of I Love You, It’s Ruining My Life

“That’s more prep work than I do for a regular day at school,” I groaned, trying to decide whether or not to take her advice, “And there’s no way they’re expecting me to be dressed up.”

“Nalini, you don’t even wear makeup to work half the time. Actually add makeup to your to-do list, please. You’re spending Thanksgiving with your crush and his daughter, so you need to look like it,” she instructed, but I immediately tensed up.

“I don’t have a crush on Kam,” I lied, anxiety from Misty suggesting it made me want to throw up the pie I hadn’t started eating.

“Yeah. Sure. You don’t have a crush, but you’re the only person who calls him Kam,“ Misty teased, “and you literally bring him up once a day. You’ve got heart eyes any time someone mentions him. You’ve never been like this with a guy before, so obviously you’re crushing on him.”

“Misty, even if it were true, and it’s not,” I quickly added, “he and Cassidy are still grieving, and it'd be inappropriate to try and force him to move on. Someone else already has since he moved here, and it threw both of them into a spiral.”

“Okay, but maybe he’s ready to date again, and he’s just waiting for the right person?” Misty said, sounding more like Cinderella’s fairy godmother than best friend.

“Not happening,” I insisted, “What should I wear that won’t make him think I’m trying to date him?”

“Still the sweater dress and leggings,” Misty insisted, “Just trust me, you want stretchy clothes because you’re going to eat a ton. But you also want to look nice because this is a holiday, which means your sad ponytail and pajama combo is not going to cut it. Light makeup, and I swear to God, Nalini. Do. Your. Hair. And keep me posted; I need all the details!”

I’d thought my hair had been fine, but as I started combing it, I realized I’d let it get more tangled than I thought from the end-of-year craziness. Misty, might've been right about how bad it was, but as I fought my hair into what I thought would be a simple crown braid, I wished I’d thrown it into a ponytail anyway.

I looked in the mirror once I was done, and I had to admit I looked good. The maroon sweater dress brought out the warmness of my bronze coloring, and the boots I found at the bottom of my closet tied the outfit together well. I looked both comfy and cute. And Misty insisted I looked hot; and despite debating it after the compliment, I didn’t immediately panic and immediately brush out my hair and change.

By the time I got to Kameron’s house, I’d convinced myself I was overdressed. Which was compounded when Cassidy ran out of the house wearing jeans and a sweater. If I were wearing a dress when I could be wearing jeans, I’d be yelling at Misty later.

“Why did you bring more food?” Cassidy asked, once she realized I’d brought my pie, “Did you not hear me say food emergency?”

“If you want to say no to the pie I spent all of yesterday making, you can,” I said, starting to walk towards the house, “But I am a better baker than your Dad, and I am not going to let it go to waste.”

“It’s not pumpkin, is it?” she groaned, following me into the house.

“Do I look basic to you? It’s a triple berry pie with a cream cheese-infused crust, thank you very much,” I smiled as I walked inside. And immediately was hit with a wall of memories.

It was my first time inside this house in fifteen years. I’d been here for the tail end of a few holidays growing up — my mother refused to celebrate anything, and I’d typically get a pity invite for the afternoon. But it wasn’t just holidays, most of my childhood was spent here, away from the sad house I lived in where my Mom did only the bare minimum to keep me alive while she focused on her career.

The furniture was the same, but the decorations were different. I immediately noticed the giant stain on the carpet where I’d tipped over a bottle of ink when I’d attempted to write with a quill when I was twelve. And despite years of their dad claiming he’d fix it, the dent in the ceiling from Jack playing baseball in the house was still right above the window. Everywhere I looked was some memory from childhood I thought had dimmed with time, a living history in the walls I hadn’t realized had been preserved.

“Dad!” Cassidy called, breaking me from my sudden nostalgia, “Nalini’s here!”

“Hey!” he smiled as he peeked out of the kitchen, his tightly curled hair slightly frizzy from his kitchen’s humidity, “Turkey’s still in the oven, so it’s going to be awhile, but make yourself at home!”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” I asked, “According to Cassidy, you’re cooking enough food to feed a million people.”

“More like… twenty?” Kameron guessed, before shrugging, “You’re free to help. But don’t feel like you have to; you’re the guest after all.”

“Give me an apron,” I said, rolling my eyes as I started peeling potatoes. I’d been working with the world’s tiniest kitchenette for so long, I’d forgotten what it felt like to be in a real kitchen. Though I was sure part of the reason I’d forgotten was that I’d always been a terrible cook — I could bake just about anything, but as soon as it came to making a meal, any ability I had disappeared.

I looked around and felt like I’d fallen into a food-themed dream. Dishes lined every counter and the island — either with something cooling or waiting for its turn in the oven. I peaked in the fridge and found it completely stuffed. There was even something going on in the microwave. I understood why Cassidy was alarmed, there was no way the three of us would eat all of this, even if we only ate what was cooking for the next week.

“Why are you making this much food for two… or, I guess three people?” I asked, attacking the potatoes with the peeler.

“Habit,” Kameron admitted, “We were the designated Thanksgiving hosts for our friend group, and Cassidy and I skipped everything last year. When I planned this out, I got out all the recipes and forgot to scale them down. But good news? Neither of us will have to cook for a while?”

“And you didn’t invite anyone else?”

“I tried!” he admitted, “I invited all of Cassidy’s Dice & Dragons group’s families last week, but they already had plans. Noah’s about to open a new Broadway show, so he’s exhausted and is spending today sleeping. And he might have a preview tonight. Jack… is Jack and I don’t invite him to holidays anymore.” There was definitely a story there, and I knew it wasn’t my place to ask. Even if I wanted the Jack gossip. “Honestly, I expected you’d be busy too.”

“With what? Eating a pie? Trying to convince my snake, Sylvie, to wear a Santa hat? Those were my big plans for today,” I scoffed, “It’s not like my mother would magically reach out today or we’d have any sort of family time scheduled.”

“Yeah, it’s probably a good thing you don’t talk to her anymore." Kameron admitted, and I shrugged — she hadn’t wanted to be a Mom, and she was right not to have wanted it. She was terrible at every single facet of motherhood. “What about your parents?” I finally asked, surprised they weren’t here, “Why not invite them?”

“Despite how good they were growing up, it turns out my parents love money more than their children,” Kameron sighed, answering a question I hadn’t known how to ask. I wasn’t sure why he was the owner of the house or why they’d never come back. “Dad was our manager and immediately started embezzling money. Mom expected us to fund her entire life, which suddenly needed a minimum of a million dollars a month. They ended up divorcing, which is how the embezzlement came out, and we cut them both off. Last I saw them, they were trying to sneak into my wedding, and when they realized I’d prepared security for that exact thing, they left. I haven’t seen them since.”