KY$ ✓

Eighteen | Big Sister

SOTC: Moonlight by Grace VanderWaal

<><><>

"Wake up!"

The sharp whisper propelled my head upward, my soul nearly jolting out of my body giving me war flashbacks of the Tower of Terror at Disneyland. Then the soul of my soul nearly jumped out my soul upon my eyes boring into a floating head facing me.

The head wasn't floating, I soon discovered when I found it attached to a neck and propped on elbows.

"I'm sorry, did I scare you?" Ada proceeded, her eyebrows noticing raising in the dark.

"No, it's ok," I lied quietly, putting a strand of my white hair behind my ear.

"Do you want to paint your nails red with me?"

<><><>

"I can't believe we're doing this at two in the morning," I stated, giggling a bit when the polish hit my finger.

"Right?" Ada giggled back, gasping.

We were now in the board game hideout, our hands laid on towels placed with each other like patchwork and various red nail polishes strewn across them. Ada preached on the importance of finding a perfect red, and we ended up settling on the OG vibrant one.

"I've been coming here to secretly paint my nails since I was twelve," she continued, smiling as she finished her right hand.

My eyebrows raised. "Twelve?" I asked, having my left and to dry and screwing the cap back on with my right.

Ada nodded.

"How long have you lived in House Christakos?"

"Well... since I was twelve!" Ada giggled, pulling a strand of her bob behind her ear. "I'm from Birmingham, but my family was in a lower financial hierarchy there. So my parents sent me away to Greece, and well, I've been here ever since."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." I meant what I said sincerely.

"Where is your family from?"

The question took me aback. "Um..." I trailed off, not knowing what to say. Should I stick with Russia like I did with Calix? Should I avoid that question entirely?

"It's okay if you can't say, I know Xerxes doesn't allow his assistants to say certain stuff."

"Yeah," I stated quickly. "But I can say that I had..." I paused before it flowed out. "I had a dad I loved. He'd go on business trips across the world and teach me the language when he came back. Every Saturday, we'd shop and try cuisines. Our favorites were Mexican and Vietnamese. The only tattoo he had was 'Clara' spelled on his fingers. Not any for my mom or my sisters, just mine. In my youth, he was a good man. He sacrificed a lot for me for many years, more than I realized."

"Gee wiz, he sounds amazing. What do you mean by past tense, if I can ask?" Ada gasped out, closing her eyes. "Woah that's insanely rude, I never should've asked—"

"No, it's fine." Then I confessed it. "He left. I woke up one morning my Junior Year to him speeding off in a truck and divorce papers on the kitchen island."

Then I saw him almost a year later.

Her face dropped. "I'm so sorry."

I could only shrug, suppressing feelings with strokes of red on my right fingers.

Ada sighed. "I had a dad I loved, too. He sent me away with my mom because of the financial situation but he was a sweet man. He was a baker so he used to sneak bread to these children I hung out with in primary when they were hungry. Passed the coppers, of course." She smiled. "Plus he sent me to the love of my life. I wish he walked me down the alter at my wedding."