My Living Nightmare

“Dinner in ten!” Tory yelled as she ran through the hall and cut down the stairs.

The day had sped by. Tory had me teach her front and back flips, and help her with her protective roll and fall.

To say my muscles were sore would be the understatement of the year. I had thought I was fit enough, but Tory had me rethinking my whole exercise regime. (Which was basically none existent, but for karate.) She was like one huge bubble of energy, bounding from spot to another.

My parents were downstairs, ‘checking up on me’ to see ‘how I was doing’. They were staying for dinner. Thankfully this time everyone was more relaxed. There were no suits and evening dresses, Italian shoes and killer high heels, but only jeans and T-shirts and skirts and floral tops.

In a way I had begun to fit in with the Rivera’s, accepting their daily comings and goings. I was used to eating breakfast with Tory and the boys, spending the day eating ice-cream and kicking a soccer ball around with Taylor and the guys, and having lunch whenever. I’d gotten used to Phil’s work-a-holic ways and how he’d hardly ever pitch for dinner, and, in a way, Sean and I were finally not trying to kill each other all the time. Okay, that’s a lie, though not completely. Take yesterday, for example. All it took were a few words of advice and a couple of threats from Sapphire and my life was almost back on track.

Everyone seemed more comfortable as I walked down the stairs to the back yard. We were having dinner among Christine’s roses since it was such a beautiful and scorching hot day. It was Sunday evening, and the next few days would be the last of summer. Everyone was trying to make the best of it, to make it last.

“Mom, could you pass the salad dressing, please?”

Christine picked up the dressing and gave it to Jamie. Tory was grumpily stabbing her lettuce with her fork, annoyed that we were having a green lunch. Apparently she wasn’t a giraffe or in need of leaves to survive.

“So, Sean, what are you planning to do after school?” my dad inquired. And here I thought he had suddenly got over his daughter-and-boy-together phobia… you know, what with the whole MARRIAGE ARRANGEMENT.

“Well, I’m thinking of studying Law at Yale,” Sean answered smoothly, but something was off. I seemed to be the only one who noticed anything, though.

I could see my father was impressed by his response. The man and his love for Ivy Leagues...

“I’m a Harvard man myself, but you can’t go wrong there,” he said. “Your mother attended Yale, Alex, and she was-”

“-one of the top graduating students. Yeah, I know.”

The amount of times he told me was unreal. He was really becoming just like my grandmother. All he had to do was start smoking, grow an unhealthy fetish of superstition and go gray and then he would be set.

“Daniel, honestly, don’t include me in this conversation,” my mom said, blushing a deep crimson with a smile.

“No need to be modest, Raven, you’re among friends and family,” Christine told my mother.

She ducked her head, allowing her shoulder-length hair cover her face.

“So that’s were Alex gets her shyness from,” Tory piped up. So this is what happens when she doesn’t get her daily calorie intake… Somebody get her some steak, please! Medium rare! The last thing we need is for her to start a discussion about me.

My dad threw back his head, letting loose a hearty chuckle. I was shocked; I hadn’t seen my dad behave like this since… Well, since I was around eight-years-old.

“You should’ve seen her when she was seven,” he said, still chortling. “She wouldn’t even open her mouth for the dentist. Then again, she has always been cheeky. She’s an inconsistency to herself, really.”

“No kidding,” I heard Sean mutter.

I rolled my eyes, chomping on a piece of cucumber.

“Do you want a second helping, Alex?” Christine asked me when I cleared my plate.

I shook my head no.

“No thanks.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want your parents to think we’re starving you,” Phil said with a warm smile.

“It’s fine, honestly.”

“You’re wasting your breath, dad, she doesn’t eat a lot of anything if it isn’t ice-cream,” Jamie told everyone.

True; very, very true.