Gracie Freaking Hall

Brianna

The table was silent, as we waited for the rest of the family to pack in. Essie sat at the center of the table, clearly being the head of command. Next to her was Earl who silently stared at the empty plate and looked pleadingly at his wife. Essie looks at him with narrowed eyes before saying, "we have to wait for everyone."

I grab my knife and start twisting it in my hand, unable to help myself, I catch the eyes of Itzel's who has her narrowed in slits like a reptilian at me. She blinks and that's when I pretend to throw it. She flinches instantly and I can't help the wide grin that escapes my cool demeanor.

"I thought jail would have taught you better," she hisses.

My face instantly falls at the mention of jail, but I quickly mask it over and respond, "they taught me to do things better. I only got caught for being careless." I hook my legs under hers and pull her closer to where she's pressed against the table, her hands on either side, trying to push herself away. "I won't make the same mistakes again."

"Are you threatening me?" she asks me.

I shrug and release my grip on her, watching as she stumbles backward with a soft rock. "Take it as you will. I was just telling you what I learned from my time away."

I could tell she was about to respond but the abrupt sound of the door clashing with the entire house, making it rumble, caught our attention. Essie's whole demeanor turns rigid as the boys stumble into the house. "How many times have I told you to not slam the door?" She scolds as they pile into the kitchen one by one. They ignore their mother's words as they stare at us with a mixture of fright and delight.

"Hey boys, missed me?" I ask them with a smirk, spinning my knife in the napkin that had been given to me.

"Brianna," Andrew says as he comes up to me first before pulling me out of my chair and giving me a bear hug. Andrew was the oldest, with a military haircut, his eyes were a light green that contrasted his ebony skin tone perfectly. They drew you in almost hauntingly, almost clouded with everything he had seen in the military. He was only 25, but the worry lines and wrinkles framing his otherwise smooth face made you believe he was older by a few years. His whole demeanor seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders but demanded respect that you gave without a fight.

Then came Stevie who pushed his older brother into Belinda as soon as he put me back down on the ground. Stevie held up his finger to me, asking for a moment before lifting my hands and placing them around his shoulders while he went around my waist. Stevie gave me his dazzling smile that showed his white teeth and his brown eyes glimmered in mirth. He snapped his fingers and spoke, "Twins, music," his deep voice vibrated through my whole body at how close our bodies were pressed together.

The twins, Barrett and Jackson, didn't miss a beat before agreeing to their older brother's request and instantly started beatboxing a slow song. They weren't as mischievous as Stevie but they still followed along with everything he said. They stood tall at 18 years old, both with shoulder-length hair but Barrett had bright red hair while Jackson had lime green hair. It was their way of being told apart but also a way to get on their mother's nerves since she saw colorful dyed hair, among other things, a sign of scoundrels and didn't like others looking down at them because of that. This was a small town after all and race played into their lives more than she cared to admit or gave away. After all, they just weren't country bumpkins.

Stevie twirls me in his arms, letting a laugh escape my lips as the rest of them partner up. Andrew dips Belinda, Barrett sways Itzel, Jackson spins Sydney, and Essie and Earl hold hands as they stare into each other lovingly, ignoring the chaos around them.

Even if Belinda had shitty role models, she couldn't deny love didn't exist any more than we could deny the air surrounding us. It was invisible, intangible, but it was there and kept us alive. I was sounding more like Gracy and her poetic idealism, I internally gag at the thought.