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I think about glossing over it, and releasing my mother, I scowl. “Agatha’s on a date.”
I don’t miss the way they glance at each other before my father says carefully, “I didn’t know you liked her.”
I pick up my fork and twirl the noodles on my plate, idly, a frown on my face. “I don’t; I mean, we’re friends, but I’m not interested in her like that.”
My mother sits down next to me, eyeing me. “Then why is it bothering you?”
“It’s not!” I protest, trying to shake off the annoyance. “I was just surprised.”
“Why?” My father leans back in his chair, his hands tucked in the pockets of his robe, a grin on his face. I roll my shoulders, a little agitated.
“She hasn’t been on a single date for the past year, and now, suddenly, there’s this guy. She never mentioned him. And she tells me everything.”
My mother shakes her head at me. “You’re overthinking it. It’s just a date.”
I stuff a bite of pasta into my mouth, choosing not to say anything. From what Agatha said, it isn’t just a date.
Although my parents try to convince me to stay over, I decide to go home, clear my head. I have a meeting in the morning, and if I want to get in a workout before going there, I have to be up early.
I enter my house as my phone rings.
It is Agatha.
Warily, I answer, “Hi.”
“Do you think you could help me move tomorrow? Grams has some friends coming over, and I don’t want to be there when they arrive.” She sounds a little annoyed.
I switch on the alarm for the next morning and ask, “Is your apartment done?”
A heavy sigh on the line. “Yeah. I was supposed to move in today, but the moving company bailed; some shit with their transport. It’s just some boxes. I can set up everything myself. It’ll take you an hour, tops.”
I glance at my watch.
It isn’t that late.
“Where are you, right now?”
“Just got back and then Grams threw this at me. I can’t even argue with her because she thinks I’m disrespecting her. I hate Zayn for showing her the Godfather movies.”
As she rambles, venting, I feel a twinge of satisfaction that she will be sleeping alone tonight.
“I’ll come by after work,” I tell her.
When she ends the call, I try to tell myself that I am just looking out for her and that’s why I am happy that her date didn’t go the way she wanted it to.
However, deep inside, I know that I am heading down a dangerous path.
2
Agatha
Grunting, I pick up the cardboard box from the table and stagger under its weight before slowly lowering it to the ground, a bead of sweat slipping down the side of my face.
Standing back up, I put my hands on my lower back and stretch, groaning.
I glance at my reflection in the glass that surrounds the fountain in the center of the mansion I grew up in, and wince at how frayed I look.
My golden hair is tied up in a messy bun, a few strands escaping here and there. My blue eyes, a feature that I share with my older brother, Philip, are glinting with annoyance.
