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sixteen years old
Evidently things move fast when you're head over heels in love. Not two months have passed since that memorable lunch and here we are, walking up the steps to City Hall, about to watch my mom and Curt get married.
It’s unusually chilly for a summer’s day at Thatcher’s Bay, or at least that's what Curt has commented. And like the unpredictable weather, everything on the island is still so unfamiliar to me, and I’m not looking forward to getting lost all the time here.
We’d gotten ready for the wedding at his house—I guess our house now. Or it’s about to be. After the ceremony and small lunch they have planned, my mom and Curt will leave for a short honeymoon at a bed and breakfast a few hours away. As they do that, movers will pack our house on the mainland and bring it to Curt's house here on the small island.
I shiver as I walk through the hallways of Curt’s place, wondering how my mother can even stand to step foot inside it. There are traces of his first wife everywhere. In the candles scattered around as decorations, and the cozy throw blankets placed on the couch. The warm woven rugs in front of all the places a person would stand and yearn for comfort. There are even some pictures of her on the wall. The first time Curt walked us down the upstairs hallway to show us the rooms we’ll be sleeping in, I caught a glimpse of one of their wedding pictures still hanging on the wall. When Curt saw me staring at it, he flushed a thousand shades of red and grabbed it from the wall, dropping it off in his room before we resumed the tour of his house. Not that the tour took very long. I'm sure as a commercial fisherman he did alright, and with my mom's contribution, everything will be comfortable, but the house definitely doesn’t resemble a manor.
Thankfully, I’ve been given my own room. The only drawback is that Noah’s room is right across from mine. The previous guest room will be Daisy’s. Not that she’s too happy about it since mom and Curt’s room is right across from hers. But instead of complaining, like I know she’s dying to, she agrees to occupy the room, saying she won’t bitch about it on Mom’s wedding day.
I, on the other hand, am itching to complain about mine and would trade with hers in a heartbeat if I thought it wouldn’t seem suspicious.
I don’t know what my life will be like with Noah living in such close proximity to me at all times. I haven’t seen him once since that awkward lunch, even though Curt has been to our place a few times and we’ve come to the island for two more dinners. He always makes excuses for Noah’s absence, but it's not like we can’t read between the lines—his son is doing everything he can to avoid us.
Now, any time I want, I can stare at his closed bedroom door, wondering if he’s in there, hiding away. I know I won’t forget the look on his face when his dad announced his intention to marry my mom. Clumsily, I trip on the stairs leading up to City Hall, jarring me out of my deep thoughts. Daisy snorts next to me, lifting an eyebrow teasingly, knowing my clumsiness must have been provoked by me being lost in my head, as usual.
She’s dressed in a light pink sheath dress accented with a thin, dark brown belt, holding mom’s bouquet in her hands, a collection of white roses, forget-me-nots, and pink Gerbera daisies. She looks much more demure than usual with her hair pulled back in an elegant chignon and pearl studs in her ears. Usually Daisy’s free spirit is reflected in her clothing, her hair loose and wild, and her clothes a million different styles depending on how she’s feeling on that day. Today she’s dressed so proper that if you ignore the hint of crazy in her gaze, you’d believe she was the epitome of calm and tranquility.
I’m dressed in a matching outfit, but my hair is half up half down. Unlike Daisy, this outfit is pretty normal to how I dress on a daily basis, prim and proper…nothing that stands out. Of course, if given the choice, I always feel more comfortable in a hoodie or a simple t-shirt and shorts. However, I doubt my mom would appreciate such attire on her big day.
As I think of her, my eyes land on my mother reaching the top step, and I admire her for a moment. She's forgone the traditional white wedding dress and instead is wearing a lacy cream-colored cocktail dress that ends at her knees. It shows off her athletic form and perfectly accents her smooth skin. She has an almost fifties style short veil on her head and her hair is pulled back in a loose bun with tendrils framing her face.
She’s gorgeous, her eyes sparkling, and the same rosy hue to her cheeks that has been there from the moment we suspected she met someone.
I haven’t seen any evidence that my mom’s nervous about today. In fact, all I’ve seen is the exact opposite of bride jitters. She keeps glancing at Curt like she can’t believe her good fortune, mimicking the same sappy expression on his face. My new stepfather looks dashing in his navy suit paired with a light pink tie that matches our dresses. Noah hasn't arrived yet, but if he ever shows up, I assume he’ll be wearing something similar to his father. It’ll only be the five of us at the wedding, but my mother insists that today feels like a celebration. Once we start walking inside the building, I almost trip again, only this time, a strong pair of arms catch me around my waist before I can fall on my face. I flinch when I’m pulled against a hard chest, and it only takes me half a second to know exactly who’s helped me into his arms.
Noah.
I can’t help but inhale the tangy scent of oranges and cinnamon washing over my senses. He quickly lets me go, but I could swear there was a moment where his hands almost seemed to tighten around my waist. I flush as I glance backwards and see him standing behind me, staring forward in annoyance, dressed in an identical suit to Curt’s. His blond hair is falling in his face, and the suit’s a bit wrinkled, like he rolled out of bed and picked it up off the floor, not daring to appear put together for the wedding he didn't want to attend in the first place.
"Try to be more careful, princess," he drawls as he brushes past me, walking over to where my mom and Curt are talking to someone at the front desk.
Errant goosebumps crawl along my arms from his touch, and I can’t help but greedily watch his form as he smoothly prowls away.
"Aw, does my little sister have a crush on the asshole?" Daisy teases, pinching my side.
My blush only grows and I smack her hand away, leveling her with a disgusted glare I hope throws her off the scent. I don’t have a crush. The guy’s about to be my stepbrother, not that that fact alone is a big deal—it’s not like we’ll be blood related—but there is no way I’ll let myself pine over someone I have to live with. Someone who hates me on mere principle alone.
"Shut up," I whisper-yell at her.
Her answering giggle seems to reverberate around the room, making me shift my weight nervously from one foot to the other.
"It would probably give you lots of great writing material to work with. Can you imagine if you guys ended up fucking? Oh, the juicy chapters I’d get to read if that shit happened!"
"I can’t believe you," I murmur in shock, even though I shouldn’t be so surprised.
ThisisDaisy we’re talking about, after all. She always has her head in the gutter ninety-nine percent of the time.
Not wanting to feed into her pervy imagination, I move away from her as quickly as I can, practically dashing after Noah still walking towards our parents. I might have been running away from her but I was also running away from the brief flash of lust that pooled in my gut at her words…just imagining them becoming a reality.
My mom gives me a warm smile once I reach them. My cheeks are still flushed, but she doesn’t seem to notice, turning her attention towards Curt and Noah.
“Glad you could make it, Son," Curt says quietly in a tired voice that hints to the fights at home I’m sure they’ve been having since the wedding news.
"No problem," Noah replies flippantly. Curt's eyes practically roll to the back of his head as he stares at the ceiling in a “God help me” kind of way.
"Noah, I really am so thankful that you're here," my mom says in earnest, but I know her heartfelt words are lost on him.
