Evangeline (Unedited)

09

L A S A G N A
(Sorry for shit chapter. Enjoy it anyways :) Might be a double update today, but don't hold me to that.)

My thighs ached painfully in the chair I was in because of how the wood was imprinting on my bare thighs. The white wood was real, and it surrounded a white table cloth our plates and a variety of empty wine bottles with flowers inside, white candles, and bowls of bread, sauce, and salads. I had already had two servings of Caesar salad when I forced myself to stop force-feeding to avoid talking to my family. Instead, I stared up at the multiple disco balls and all of the globe string lights hanging down from the big, leafy tree.

I ended up squished between Leo and Wilbur, both of which were chatting up a storm to Tommy, who was across from us beside Alessandro, who was in the kitchen, and an empty chair. There were two empty chairs, making that 12 chairs, and only 7 brothers. If I knew everyone better, I may have been able to say which ones were missing.

I leaned forward a tiny bit to take a look around the table at everyone, especially the folks whom I hadn't met officially yet.

"Hope everyone is hungry, we are feasting tonight." Alessandro hollers happily, carrying 4 big plates of food. "Noah, can you help me bring everything out?"

Noah mutters a small 'sure' and stands up, wiping off his pants before following him back. He steals Leo's bread on the way, smirking while he does so. I examine the array of food in front of me, similarly to everybody else. The amazing smell was drifting right into my nostrils and my stomach growled desperately.

An awkward silence engulfs the table as we await the food, eye contact being thrown around by the boys around me while I stare at the table in front of me to avoid it.

"Do you like lasagna, Evie?" Leo asks me, and I turn my head to him. He's smiling softly at me, and I can note the tiny freckles on his cheeks and nose.

I think back on any time that I had eaten it. Like, an actual real dish of home-cooked lasagna. My stepdad would use the Chef Boyardee cans, and I can't say I enjoyed it much. I had a bite of the cafeteria lasagna and it was... grainy.

"I don't know if I've tried it, actually." I settle on that as an answer, and the minute I say it, I think over the words in fear that they don't sound good. I find myself doing this every time I speak. I wonder if anyone else at this table does.

"What?" His eyes widen and his jaw drops. "You've never tried lasagna?"

"Like, not real lasagna." I shrug, my cheeks red now that everyone was staring at me. I could feel my heart beating erratically. "Just, like, cans n' stuff."

"Oh." He nods, eyebrows furrowing, before he lightens his face up again. "Well, Sandro makes the best lasagna, I guarantee you'll like it."

As if on cue, Alessandro and Noah come back out with plates of food; lasagna, garlic bread, and for some reason, mac and cheese, and mozzarella sticks. I stare at both for a moment, before looking up and around at everyone. Still chatting, most started to serve themselves. My eyes followed Leo's hands as he grabbed a big serving of lasagna from one of the two dishes, and it landed with a plop on his plate. He laughed at something Noah said and looked at me as if waiting for me to start—so I did.

I grabbed a significantly smaller portion of lasagna than everyone else because I decided I wanted to try some of the mac and cheese and mozzarella sticks too, and also I was already full. I can't usually eat much when I'm nervous, and unfortunately for me, my nerves have been on fire all day.

"How's the first bites?" Alessandro interrupts every one's conversation happily, his attention fluttering to me momentarily. A few cheers and 'thank yous' fill the sudden silence while I nod at him with a smile.

The talking dies down as everyone starts to eat, and I can hear the 60's music playing on a radio, which I hadn't heard before.

"So, Evie," One of the guys—who I recognize as Theodore—says between mouthfuls, and leans in so his elbows are resting on the table. I try not to make eye contact with anyone but him, "How are you enjoying the cottage?"

"It's good." I blurt out quickly, my hands growing clammy under all of the attention. "Super pretty, and so far the food hasn't been bad either." I shoot another glance at Alessandro, who seems to be listening very intently, a tiny quizzical grin on his face.

I've never been good with attention. I think that's why I didn't mind my lonesome so much anymore. As a kid, I wanted it badly. I mean, what kid didn't want attention? Elio liked it, he relished in it. He was made to be in the spotlight. I think some people are just wired that way—but I wasn't one of them. For me, the light just blinded me. I would squint and try to see what I could, but I'd just try to escape anyway because it was too intense. I am perfectly content with being on the sidelines though.

Maybe it's my fear of being seen, or perhaps it's my fear of being seen. Understood, not noticed. I wonder if the boys can see the real me, or if I am invisible to them like everything else in my life, which would actually make sense considering they've barely even interacted with me at this dinner.

"Good, good, good." He repeats awkwardly, taking a sip from his drink and looking up at Alessandro, who narrows his eyes in return, before rolling them and turning to me.

"We'll be heading to New York on Monday morning, and will probably leave around 10 am." He tells me, observing my face. I took a bite of my food and caught myself wanting to tell Leo he was right. The lasagna was really good. "Tonight we'll probably just take it easy, hang out around the cottage and such, but tomorrow we're going on a hike—if you feel inclined enough to join."

A hike? A sweaty walk in the woods alone with (practically) strangers?

Yeah, sure, why not?