cast l.h

week five part three

The four of us sat at the table in silence, not one person knowing the appropriate thing to say. I hate to say it, but I wish I would have asked Luke to stay and eat with us. He could've come up with something I'm sure. But then that may have risked the chance of him knowing who I was... and we don't want that.

I twirled my spaghetti on my plate with a fork, still not sure if I was using the correct one. The moment was awkward to say the least. It's amazing how incredibly difficult small talk is.

¨So,¨ my mother spoke up, I tried to look her in the face but failed when she went for a gulp of expensive wine, ¨how is school?¨

¨Uhh it's good. I'm lucky I get the chance to go and I'm very thankful for it,¨ I respond turning my gaze to Shyla. She nods as if saying ¨you're welcome.¨

¨What is it like? Is it similar to NYU or Columbia? Isn't Ashton attending NYU¨ my Dad asks.

¨Not really, it's very small. But yeah, he is.¨ I say clearing my throat doing my best to be vague.

He just nods clearly showing his disapproval in the college. He expected his kids to go to the best school possible and on a full-ride.

I try to hold it in but can't ¨Didn't mean to disappoint you, again,¨ I sass emphasizing the again. Something about him just makes me so angry. My parents jaws drop, but from the corner of my eye I see Shyla hiding a smirk with her wine glass.

¨What's new though right?¨ he responds with toast of the glass.

My cheeks heat up and my heart drops. Silence falls upon the room for a good 10 minutes as we eat

¨So it's nice finally seeing you again Shyla,¨ my mom speaks up to change the mood.

¨You too Cindy,¨ Shyla nods ¨How is business going? You guys manage properties still right?¨

¨It's great actually Shyla,¨ my father talks over my mom as usual. ¨Better than this old dump. What are you doing to it again?¨

I give him credit, he does know how to piss every person off within minutes. My mom avoids eye contact and finishes off the bottle of wine while the two other stare daggers into one another.

¨If by old dump Dan, you mean your childhood home, it's going wonderfully. Izzy is a lot of help in the process. She's a lovely young lady.¨ I blush at the compliment. I can't remember one time my parents every complimented me.

¨Since when,¨ snickers my slightly drunk mother.

No one says anything to that. But my mind is going crazy and I feel like I will explode if I don't leave this second. I notice the wine bottle is empty and grab it aggressively, ¨This is empty, I'll go get another.¨

¨Good idea!¨ my tipsy mother claps.

I practically jump from my plush dining room chair and out of the room. The hallway is dark, dimly lit by the fireplace emanating from the living room. I peek over the door frame but see the room is empty. I continue down the hall to the back study, remembering the wine cellar is hidden behind a bookcase in there.

That's one of my favorite things about old houses, they always have secrets and history; kind of like the people that live in them. My footsteps creak on the wood floor while I walk down the hallway. I open the french doors to the office and stroll to the bookcase I have to open.

I didn't realise how heavy it would be. I'm stupid to try and do this alone. It is fully stacked with at least a hundred books and is made from oak. My hands tug and the seam turning my skin more pale and red. Minutes pass and it has barely budged an inch.