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I hear footsteps behind me and feel Christina hovering at my side. My body stills and I turn, eyes widening when I find her mere centimeters from me. She smiles bitterly, a dark look in her eye making me want to crawl into the cupboards and lock the door. “I know exactly what you are,” she whispers so softly I barely register she’s saying anything. I look back, wondering if the bros are noticing any of this, but they are too busy speaking with Lucas’s father about sports at Aurora.
Christina grabs my chin and jerks my face back to her. “Acting all intriguing in order to capture my son’s interest. Deep down you are nothing.”
I flinch, taking a step away from her. Tears brim my eyes and I quickly blink them away. I need to remain strong. I can’t back down. “You’re wrong,” I whisper, hating the shaking in my voice. I glance over my shoulder, hoping to catch Lucas’s eye, but he’s too busy staring at the floor, leaning against the wall, as if he wants to be sucked inside the building and hide there for eternity. There’s something in his gaze that is incredibly off.
I turn back to Christina, nearly jumping out of my skin when I find her standing right next to me. She strokes my hair away from my face. It’s such a tender touch when she’s staring at me as if she loathes my very being. “You will never be good enough for my son,” she says lowly. “He’ll drop you in the next few months. You just wait.”
I don’t move as she strides past me, knocking her shoulder against mine. I feel like I’m in high school again and the popular girls are picking on me for my fashion sense.
But instead, this time, it’s my boyfriend’s mother, andshe absolutely hates me.
I fidget in the kitchen, watching Christina pat Hunter and Seth’s shoulder, not knowing if I should go over there and socialize. I clench my jaw, feeling the tears about to erupt. Turning on my heel, I pad towards the closest bathroom, between Seth and Lucas’s rooms and shut the door with more force than intended.
Standing over the sink, I gasp. My hands clenching the marble while I try to quiet my sobs. Tears slip down my face and I’m unable to stop myself from crying. I look at myself in the mirror, scrutinizing the freckles on the bridge of my nose, my curly blonde hair. I know I shouldn’t listen to Lucas’s mother. I know we come from different worlds and she’s trying to look out for her son.
But I can’t help the feeling, knowing she’s right.
I’m nothing to Lucas.
I’m not a big breasted gymnast. I don’t have money.
What can I possibly bring to the table with Lucas?
What does he even see in me?
I hear laughter wafting towards me. It sounds like Hunter. I close my eyes, concentrating on his deep, heady voice and inhale deeply while calming my breath. They will thinkit’sstrange if I remain locked in here. I should go back to the kitchen. They’ll be gone in the next ten minutes.
My eyes slowly open and I wipe the tears from my bloodshot eyes and blow my nose in the tissue. I grimace at my red nose and the makeup lingering on the paper, but this is the best I can do for now. No point in going to my room and redoing the whole thing, especially since it’s late at night and I should be heading to bed.
I sigh and my shoulders slump forward in defeat. Turning away from my reflection, I trudge out the bathroom door and force a bright smile. The bros have made a semi-circle around Lucas’s parents and Seth seems to be deep in conversation with Lucas’s father.
“We know someone who will be participating in the marathon, as well,” Franklin says while crossing his arms, a smug look in his eye. “Do you know an Alex Goode, per chance?”
I watch Seth’s hands fist. A dark, roaring rage glimmers within him, his muscles tensing while he holds his ground. “Yes,” he says lowly, his fists trembling in a vain attempt to keep his anger hidden. “I know of him.”
“He’s our little star,” says Christina, yet her gaze is glued on me as she speaks. I still under her eyes, watching her look me up and down once more, scrutinizing my clothes before offering a cruel smile. “We’ve known his family since Lukey was in kindergarten. We’ll of course be cheering him on, but still, best of luck.” Her gaze slides to Seth, andshe wrinkles her nose.
“Thank you.” Seth tilts his head to the side, his pitch raised as if he’s asking a question. His gaze slides to mine, andhe gives me a shrug. “Well, speaking of running.” He stretches his arms over his head. “I should go… run. It was a pleasure seeing you again.”
Franklin gives a curt nod, holding out his hand. “Likewise.”
I watch Seth give Lucas’s father a firm shake before turning on his heel and heading back to his room, most likely to change.
“Well, I suppose we should be off then,” says Christina while looking at her watch. The crystals, or perhaps, diamonds glisten under the light and I faintly wonder if the woman is flashing it to me on purpose. “It’s getting late.”
“I’ll be stopping by Samuel’s office soon,” says Franklin while shaking Lucas’s hand. I watch Lucas bristle, fear flashing on his face. It’s very brief, but it’s there. Why am I getting the sense this isn’t a normal family visit?
“Yes, of course, sir.”
Christina kisses Lucas on the cheek and I nearly jump out of my skin as she turns to me. “It was a pleasure meeting you Rachel.” Her smile makes my skin curl. “It would be great to see you again. Maybe at the club? Or for brunch sometime?”
She looks at me expecting an answer and I have no clue what’s the correct thing to say. Just ten minutes ago she was telling me I would never be good enough for her son, and now she is inviting me to a country club in Paris for some tea or wine? I feel my head bob up and down, my mouth hanging open, breathing a soft, “Sure.”
What else am I going to say, with both Lucas and Franklin staring at me? As if I could say anything else.
Christina tilts her head to the side, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it gently. “Perfect,” she says sweetly, the sound of it curdling my insides.
I watch both Lucas’s parents walk down the foyer and out the door, Lucas following after them like a lost puppy, probably to make sure they make it to their limo safely. My legs shake, as if supporting me up is no longer their task. I stumble towards the couch, flinging myself down on it while placing a hand against my forehead.
