Elude [H.S.]

NINETEEN

My first Thanksgiving.

I never expected to be celebrating my first Thanksgiving my first year being in New York. I knew that it would happen eventually, but I figured next year. I didn't think I'd already have friends who cared for me enough to invite me over. Lynette and Greyson didn't hesitate on asking me to join them at their house last week when we were grabbing drinks after work.

They told me that they had invited Maeve and Conrad as well as they switched houses each year. Last year Maeve and Conrad hosted so it was the Harts' turn this year.

As excited as I am at the fact that I'll be seeing Maeve today, it has started to completely eat me alive when I find myself around her and Conrad together. He was getting worse in the way he was treating her - that much was clear. There's been so many times when I've just wanted to pull her aside and plead for her to leave. Conrad in no way deserved her.

We also decided on having a little bit of a color theme this evening. Even though it was just going to be the five of us, Lynette thought it would be fun if we tried to match a bit. I was nervous about my choices but when I showed up this evening both Grey and Lyn complimented me on my outfit.

"Should we put your pie in the oven to keep it warm, Harry?" Lynette asks, looking over her shoulder at me as she moves around the kitchen.

When I asked what I could bring today, not wanting to come empty handed, Lynette told me she had figured everything out but dessert. Luckily, that worked out for me given my experience in the bakery back home.

"Yeah that'll be fine! Once everything else is done cooking and the temperature is turned off, it should be fine to leave it in there until we're ready for it."

Grey was currently in the living room - cursing to himself as he tried to get the remote control to work for the TV. One thing I learned quickly about Grey is that he loves American football. His team is the New York Giants and they just so happened to be one of the teams playing in the Thanksgiving game today.

I head into the room to join him as he smacks the remote against his thigh and then begins to jam the buttons as he points it at the TV.

"Piece of shit," he grumbles and I chuckle, bringing my glass of Maker's Mark to my lips.