Not a Stranger

“Georgia!”

I’m ignoring you.

“Georgia!”

Please stop calling my name.

“GEORGIA!”

“What?” I called back, propping my book against my knees and leaning my head back on my bedpost.

Silence followed my call and I rolled my eyes, marking my place in the novel I was reading and exiting my bedroom, leaning over the banister to view the downstairs area of my large house.

“Come downstairs, honey,” my mother bustled, wearing peals in her ears and on her neck. Her heels clicked along the white tile that lined the entrance room of the house and she wore a pink dress that dropped a little below her knee.

I clomped down the carpeted stairs that snaked around the sidewall, my flaming red hair falling in front of my face, coming out of the messy bun I had previously put it in to keep it off my face. I followed the sound of my mother’s frantic garbles to my father’s study, where the man himself was sitting behind a desk.

“Oh- Georgia,” my mother snapped. “You’re not even dressed yet!”

“Yeah, about that,” I said in a dull tone. “I’m not going to be making an appearance tonight,”

“Like hell you’re not!” my mother screeched, staring at me as if I had just told her I wanted to hitch a ride to King’s Cross and sell my goods.

“You’ll have Monica as your child protégée to show off,” I muttered, scuffing the front of my boot.

My father glanced up from his work, a rare occurrence often signalling danger. My mother and I both looked at him, expecting yelling.

“Georgia,” he said sternly. “You will attend this dinner, and that is that,”

My father’s voice was enough to send shivers down my spine; I rolled my eyes and looked at my mother whose eyebrows were getting lost in her hairline.

“Fine,” I sighed and turned on my heel.

Making my way slowly and surely up the stairs, I happened to run into the second main reason why this dinner was going to suck. My sister, Monica. Two years younger than me and excels in all the things that I suck at, including looks and personality.

However, Monica neatly side stepped me and continued punching numbers and letters into her phone. She was clad in an adorable baby blue cocktail dress paired with some silver heels that made her legs look at least five inches longer, despite the fact that she was two years younger than me, she looked the same age, if not older than me.

As I walked into my bedroom I heard my mother and Monica squealing about a dress or a necklace or something trivial. I headed towards my walk-in wardrobe and fingered through a number of dresses I had accumulated over the years.

Tonight was going to be an interesting night.

~

A few hours later and I was sufficiently dolled-up. At least, it kept my mother at bay, which was enough for me. I had my long, red hair hanging in loose curls at my shoulders accompanied by some silver drop down earrings, my dress was simple and white and hung a bit above my knees.

However, I was very uncomfortable.

Monica and my mother were fussing around in the kitchen, both giggling about the people that were coming over. Two adults and their son, Castiel. Castiel was my age and worked very hard to make my life a living hell, which he succeeded in doing.

“Georgia,” my mother trilled and I stalked towards the kitchen with an expression on my face that showed apprehension.

Upon entering I saw a large cake, decorated very tastefully, Monica and my mother both hanging around it talking in high-pitched voices. It was no question that Monica had a crush on Castiel, and the way they both treated me it would seem like a match from the Gods.

“Yes?”

“Will you please try and be nice to Castiel today, love?” my mother posed it as a question, however we both knew it was a demand.

“I’m not the one who isn’t nice,” I defended.

My mother pierced me with her scarily intimidating eyes. “Georgia,” she stretched out my name to make it three syllables. “Be nic-,”

However her words were cut off by the sound of a doorbell. Monica and my mother both fluttered their hands around, squealing softly at their arrival. My father wouldn’t answer the door unless he had all of us waiting by the door, so the three of us exited the kitchen to line up by his side.

Although they were close friends, everything was a formal affair.

My father shook hands with everybody, embracing his friends like they were family members. Once Castiel approached him, he quickly shook his hand as if he were the son he never had.

I, of course, kissed the cheek of everybody until I reached Castiel who raised an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arm, while Monica slightly vibrated beside me waiting to pull Castiel into a short kiss on the cheek.

“Hi Castiel,” she flitted anxiously, clearly intimidated by the tall boy standing in front of her.

Castiel gave a smirk towards her and looked Monica up and down, I rolled my eyes in disgust and scoffed, to which Castiel shot me a look of pure and resentful loathing. Our parents were otherwise occupied, so they missed the entire exchange, which would explain why Castiel said what he did next.

“Jealous, Georgia?” he sneered. “How does it feel being the less hot sister?”

Monica, abandoning all sister solidarity, gave a small titter and clutched onto Castiel’s arm. Having had to deal with this kind of behaviour from Castiel from a young age, I was quite immune, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t sting a little bit.

“Whatever Castiel,” I mumbled, stalking past them.

“The night’s only beginning,” Castiel sang as I walked away, dreading every minute to come.

~

Sitting at my family’s large dining table was incredibly awkward. Both of our father’s were trying to subtly compete with one another about their corresponding businesses, our mother’s were exchanging pleasantries about each other’s clothing, jewellery and all other luxuries that the wealthy could afford and Monica was steadily flirting with Castiel.

“I love your shirt,” she swooned.

I snorted into my soup, Monica couldn’t be more obvious unless she held up a sign reading ‘I’m loose and easy!’, however Castiel was using all of Monica’s affections to rile me up and the most annoying thing was that it was working.

When, finally, Castiel’s mother would direct attention my way, the boy himself would always manage to divert the attention back to himself, putting me down in the process.

He had a gift.

“So, Georgia, what subjects do you like?” his mother would question.

I swallowed my tomato before speaking. “I really do enjoy drama and music, but-,”

“But, of course, you never made it into the school musical, have you Georgia?” Castiel said seemingly innocently. “I mean, you say you love it, but you can’t be that good at it, right?”

I ducked my head as my mother, oblivious to Castiel’s snide remarks, questioned him about whether or not he was ‘musically inclined’.

The entire process began to chip away at my self-esteem. Monica’s self righteous giggle, Castiel’s blatant arrogance and my parents’ oblivion to everything that was going on internally. I excused myself to the restroom halfway through the dinner in an attempt to stop myself from breaking down.

I splashed some water on my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. What was good about me? My confidence had been shaken throughout the evening due to the fact that I could count on one hand the number of people whose life would be affected by the end of my own.

Castiel. That arrogant asshole. Constantly dragging me down so I feel like less of a human being.

Upon exiting the bathroom, I ran into the boy himself who was punching numbers in his cell phone, loitering in the lobby of my house. With anger bubbling inside me, I strode up to him and stood in front of him.

“What gives you the right to make me feel like an indecent human being?” I snapped, my voice rising.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, an expression of indifference on his face. “Excuse me?”

“You’re always bringing me down for no reason, you and Monica just want to screw me over and you know what? It’s working. You have succeeded in making me feel like I’m failure, so thank you Castiel, thank you for making me think I’m not worth a damn to anybody,”

There was a silence after my speech. My chest was heaving because of the exhilarating rush from telling off the person I had loathed my entire life.

However, Castiel did not seem phased by any of the words I had shouted at him. Instead, he pushed himself off the wall, leant down so he and I were eye-to-eye and then said, slowly and surely.

“What makes you think that I give a damn about someone like you?”