I Now Pronounce You...Sisters?

Chapter Six

I have the most awkward social life. I have a couple of old friends over and they're all huddled up on the sofa with my mother gossiping. Which is why I'm in my room uploading this chapter.

I'm so popular.

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Previously on Chapter Five:

I don’t notice that Zach’s arm is still on my shoulder until I feel them drop limply by his side. “Hey, Ari?”

“Mhmm?”

“Who’s moving out of your house?”

That’s when I see the boxes, lots of them."Not moving out, moving in."

Chapter Six

If there’s one thing I remember from being a child, it’s the colour pink. I remember being forced into wearing the puffiest, frilliest pink dresses possible. Breathing was such a restricted activity for me and running around was out of the question. But the woman forcing me to wear those dresses is nothing more than a distant memory now.

“If Hasbro were to see the amount of pink being put in this room, they might as well accuse us of stealing Barbie’s bedroom.”

“Who knows they might even accuse me of stealing Barbies Ken.” I stop chewing mid-way and stare oddly at the speaker phone, gran too has the same expression as me. Mom’s chuckling on the other side of the line fades, probably noticing that what she said was nowhere near funny.

“Dude, you’re not young anymore you can’t make jokes, besides I wasn’t joking around, I was serious.”

“Firstly, Arianna, I’m not your dude, I’m your mother. Secondly, how dare you say I’m old, I’m very much young. I’m not even thirty yet.” Her serious tone lasts only seconds before she bursts into a fit of giggles. Gran on the other hand shoots me a look which I for one know isn’t meant for me but for Mom. “Aunt, you’re her aunt, not Mother.” She mutters away to herself, thankfully she’s too far from the speaker phone for Mom to hear.

“Anyways tell me how tryouts went yesterday afternoon. Did you make the team or not?” Mom asks. My cheeks burn slightly as I look down at my bowl. Within seconds, Gran bursts out laughing and begins retelling Mom the unfortunate events of yesterday.

After what seems to be an hour, Moms laughter dies down but the jokes don’t stop there.

“So, Mom, you’re in an awfully good mood this morning. Care to explain all the boxes entering the house?”

Opening one of the smaller boxes, Gran practically swoons over its contents. Ugh, more pink! “Eleena these bed sheets are too cute!” I hear Mom chuckle lightly before I repeat my previous question. She hesitates for a minute and for a split second I imagine her running her fingers through her hair.

“You’ll find out when I get home.” She drops the conversation there and starts up a conversation with grandma in Spanish.

I take in my surroundings, the boxes, the pink sheets and stuffed toys. Mom doesn’t need to answer me; I already know what’s going on.

I pour myself a cup of OJ and gulp it down within seconds and help myself to another serving of cereal, ahead of me gran takes the phone and hands it over to Dan who just happened to enter the kitchen.

“Eleena,” is all that Grandma says to him and the two of us watch him walk off with the phone in hand and a scowl on his face.

The silence in the kitchen lasts only a few seconds before I start announcing my boredom rather loudly just to tick of Gran.