The Naturals | O.S

The Mad Hatter

KATHLEEN

"Spooky season is upon us at last, and do you know what that means?" Lia queries, folding her hands together with impecable delicacy. Her excitement is palpable, and I have no doubt that she is just barely keeping her composure.

"Staying at home and playing a game of uno?" I offer, a small bead of hope working in my chest.

"A corn maze," she corrects with a toothy grin, and a unanimous groan rises around the table.

"You said we weren't going out in public this year," Dean reminds her, a slight note of distress evident in his tone. "It's the only reason I agreed to a group costume."

Lia regards him with a placid expression. "I lied."

"Lia is allergic to staying indoors," Michael acknowledges with a knowing smirk. "She's like a cat. A very, very, disobedient cat."

"You know, Indoor Allergies are a very real thing," Sloane relays. "They can be triggered by things like dust mites, mold, and pet dander."

"There had better not be any pet dander in this house," Judd grumbles, giving Sloane a sidelong stare as he fills in a column on his crossword.

The blonde in question puckers her lips to hide her smile; rather poorly, might I add.

"Uh oh," I drawl, giving her a teasing look. "The Sloane face. What was it this time?"

Sloane straightens her posture and makes direct eye contact with me. "Not a Guinea Pig," she states matter-of-factly, her tone slightly higher in pitch than normal. My stomach churns at the thought.

"You got a Guinea Pig?" Lia asks, having detected the same lie I had. Her eyes are wide with disappointment, though there's no hint of surprise on her face.

"Those are so close to mice," I whisper, tucking my feet beneath me as I scan the floor precariously. A curt breath from Dean has me looking up to see his lips quirk into a smile. I glower at him. Judd has already disregarded his puzzle, focusing all of his attention on the back of Sloane's head.

"Pardon me?" He prods.

"What?" Sloane tries, attempting a clueless facade. "I said I didn't get a Guinea Pig."

"And you lied?" Judd blinks slowly, which tells me his patience is quickly waning— though Sloane is none the wiser.

"Not characteristically. I inferred a negative statement that would appease a specified group of people. The technicalities of what can be classified as fib and truth are nothing but a grey area, that can be twisted and construed in different perspectives." She takes a brief pause now. "Really, it all comes down to your childhood inhibitions and household parenting style."

"Collectively, I think we can agree that we have no idea what you just said," Michael points out, scrunching his face at her.

"Precisely as intended."

"Sloane," Judd demurs. "You cannot have a Guinea Pig in this house—"

"You guys are a bunch of party poopers," Maddox accuses as he enters the kitchen, an array of scarves and trinkets clutched in his arms.