I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Next morning it took me a bit to figure out where I was. Once I did, I broke into a big grin and nestled down into the thick bedclothes. Alex's voice came from across the room, 'What's made you so happy?'

'Nuthin'.'

She chuckled, 'Sit up and have breakfast, then.'

I stretched and sat up, shivering in the chill, 'Where're my glasses?'

'On the table there, just next to you.'

I affixed them to my face and yawned.

'Sleep well?'

'Yes.' I'd never slept better, actually. I brought the tray on the bedside table over my legs and had some bacon, ravenous. I suppose that made sense, as I had eaten practically nothing over the past two days. 'Did Constance bring this from my room?'

'Yes. She wondered if you were all right and I told her you were. You are, aren't you?'

'Oh, yes.' Being miserable seemed so far removed from what I was feeling it seemed impossible that I could have ever not been ecstatic to be alive. I sipped my tea, 'Can we go ice skating today?'

She nodded, 'Certainly. We'll go after lunch if you'd like.'

'Yay.' I tucked into my toast and lemon curd. It sounds gross, but it's not, I promise.

After our adventure in ice skating—Alex let me use some of her old skates—I had a warm bath to ease my poor muscles, and promised them I wouldn't do anything remotely strenuous for a very long time. I thought about how great Alex's Jacuzzi would feel as I reclined in the large claw foot tub in the bathroom down the hall from my room. My bathroom was quite different from the one in Alex's room. Hers was almost entirely white with the black Jacuzzi that had silver fixtures and a bidet beside the toilet. My bath was done in cream and beige tones; the floor was marble with gold veining and there was a huge fluffy bath mat by the tub. Alex's looked like something in a person's home, albeit a very posh person's home, whereas mine looked like it belonged in a high-end hotel.

Alex and I were already seated for dinner when Anthony came grumbling into the dining room and took his place. Alex asked what the matter was.

His tone was of utter disgust, 'Some bloody idiot,' he cut his eyes to the maids, 'lost the key to the door at the end of the west wing. These people.' He said it as though he didn't know Constance and Nathalie were standing right there. Neither of them spoke in their defence.

I realised I had forgotten to replace the key when we came in the night before and was about to admit to having it when Alex spoke up, 'Actually, I have it.'

He looked surprised, 'You? Why?'

She flapped out her napkin and placed it in her lap, 'I decided to go for a stroll last night and took it with me.'

He stared at her, perplexed. 'Why in the name of Christopher would you do that?'

She shrugged, 'I suppose I wasn't thinking.'

'That's obvious.' My eyes were wide, he was being even more shirty than usual, especially with his sister. I was used to hearing that condescending tone with me, but not Alex. It made me want to shout at him—no one should speak to her that way.

Alex's eyes narrowed and she inhaled deeply, perhaps in order to tell him off and I jumped in, 'I took it, all right?'

His gaze glided over to me, his eyes going down to slits and his thin lips curled into a smile that reminded me of the Grinch, 'You did?' He folded his hands in his lap and asked in an overly solicitous way, 'Why, pray tell, did you do that?'