Evangeline
I deep-clean my room like a madwoman. I take every single piece of the fancy-ass lingerie sent by Mariam from Italy in sight and shove it under my bed, hiding all evidence of my clothes from sight. When I'm done, I sink to my knees against the wall.
There are no words to describe the level of humiliation I'm feeling right now. Even more so than when I realised I love my stepbrothers. And definitely not in a sisterly way. I bury my face in my hands. God, why do I feel freaking excited by the fact that they...
I slap myself internally, deeply regretting not cleaning up after school. Stupid, stupid Evangeline!
What the hell am I supposed to do now? I guess I can be grateful for the fact that Asher didn't come upstairs, or that the twins were home, or else id never hear the end of the inappropriate jokes. Argh!
I check the time. It's been almost 40 minutes since I shut myself up in here. Either way, I have to go downstairs to continue with the preparations. I choose not to let this incident ruin the twin's birthday.
I shower quickly and change into pajama pants and a white hand-me down tee from Asher.
Filled with resolve, I throw open the door and march downstairs in my baggy, definitely modest clothes. There is a quiet murmur of conversation in the living room. I walk in to find the three of them sitting like ducks in a row, pumping up balloons. Owen looks up, startled. Lucas and Asher elbow him, and he begins to stutter. "Ah-Evangeline, I'm sorry, it was an accident..." I swallow and force myself to smile through my flaming cheeks. "It's fine."
Lucas avoids eye contact, blushing hard as well. I hope he washed his face at least seven times with soap. My heart rate quickens. Lucas saw.
My thoughts quickly go out the window as Asher lifts a balloon filled with helium to his lips. "Hey, guys, imagine if my voice was squeaky to scare—"
"No!" I lunge forward. Lucas slaps Asher upside his head and Owen snatches the balloon away, holding it out of reach.
"Are you stupid?" Lucas grumbles.
"If you inhale helium, you could suffer from severe asphyxiation." Owen adds. I didn't know he was a science geek as well.
Asher looks at us stupidly. "Axy-what now?"
I roll my eyes. "Hazardous lack of oxygen."
Asher's reckless attempt at a joke has made all of us considerably more serious, and making me temporarily forget about what just happened. I settle down next to Asher, secretly keeping a watchful eye over him in case he tries to do something in cautious again.
-
Ping.
Lucas's phone lights up wth a notification in the pitch blackness of the room.
"Is that it?" Owen whispers from somewhere off to my left.
"Yeah." The balloons squeak as they rub against each other, mixing with the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway.
"Asher, this better be a good idea," Lucas murmurs from amongst the countless balloons. "I can hardly breathe in here."
"Oh, it'll be worth it. Just a little while longer till they come up here." Asher replies. I hope they come up soon. The twin's room, every inch of available space taken up by an endless quantity of blown- up balloons, is dark and stuffy as hell. Even though I'm not moving a muscle, I can feel beads of sweat forming on my nape and tricking down between the valley of my breasts.
Downstairs, a jangle of keys, and the front door slamming open noisily. "Hey, guys," one of the twins call. The light from downstairs shines in through the sliver between the door and the tile, illuminating the shiny surfaces of the balloons crowding the room. Multiple heavy footsteps clomp upstairs. Down the hall, our bedroom doors are being flung open as they search for us.
The door swings open. In slow motion, we watch as the hundreds of balloons we spent three hours blowing up come pouring out of the room, right onto the twins. On cue, we all jump out and yell, "Happy Birthday!" Asher crashes headfirst into his older brothers.
The twins, dressed to the nines, rear back in surprise and land on their asses as a result of Asher's headbutt with a shout. Past the doorframe, Daniel guffaws, holding up his phone. Is he recording?
His chocolate brown eyes dictate on someone behind me, and his expression changes. Not in a good way. I follow his gaze to Owen, whose eyes are wide.
