Through His Eyes

Through His Eyes [21]

{{Dedicated to @Spotted_Turtles because she made me a banner!!!! a banner!!!!!!}}

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Rhea was surprised she'd enjoyed herself at the party, even managed to make some friends, considering how much of a nervous wreck she actually was. She'd enjoyed Xander's company throughout the night, who was funny, thoughtful and kind, not to mention completely gorgeous. She wasn't afraid to admit that if she weren't tangled up in a horrendous web of drama, he'd be the kind of guy she'd go for. The rest of Caleb's friends were all fun and had been welcoming and kind to her. She'd gone to bed with a fairly good mood, forcing thoughts of Yasmine and Caleb, the images of Caleb's arms around his girlfriend to the farthest, darkest corners of her mind.

The morning after was, however, an entirely different story.

She woke up to a mild headache—she hadn't drunk enough to give her a proper hangover—and the horrible aftertaste of beer inside her mouth. She cursed herself for not brushing her teeth before bed, but in truth, the events of last night had left her so drained that it was a miracle she'd even managed to change out of her clothes and into pajamas.

When she opened her eyes, the first image that flashed in her mind was of Yasmine sighing and letting her head drop to Caleb's shoulder as she cradled a bottle of beer in her hand and smiled at the conversation taking place around them. Apparently, the thoughts she'd managed to tuck away before she went to bed had managed to escape their tight leash overnight, roaming in the clearings of Rhea's mind freely. She couldn't help but think how they'd looked so content to be together last night, seemingly enjoying each other's company as well as their friends, whereas Rhea had been a mere outsider, watching from the sidelines.

Okay, maybe that was dramatizing the situation a little bit.

She'd felt welcome there by everyone, including Yasmine, who could very well have hated her, ignored her or passive aggressively tried to mark her territory. But no, her behavior had been nothing but friendly and the way she interacted with Caleb had carried no trace of a hidden message directed at Rhea—no meaningful touches, no secret glares over Caleb's shoulder. Then again, it would have been a shock if Caleb had gone for someone like that. He was a decent—no, a great—person and naturally he'd gone for someone like himself.

It was fairly early so she got up and went into the kitchen with the intention of preparing breakfast for herself and her parents, who were seizing the opportunity the weekend presented them to sleep in. She brought with her her headphones and pulled out a mood-lifting playlist on Spotify like she always did whenever she was cooking, which was not too often, but still.

Pancakes and bacon were on the menu today so she prepared pancake batter from scratch, stirred and flipped, all the while moving to the upbeat songs that blasted in her ears. After fifteen minutes, the entire house was filled with the sizzling sounds and the smell of bacon, followed by the padding of bare feet against the hardwood floor of the hallway. Seconds later, her father made an appearance in the kitchen and sat down by the counter, sleep still evident in his eyes.

She was so busy with flipping a pancake that she startled when her father spoke up, "You really are the product of True Love."

"What?" she shouted over the music in her ear, then took of the headphones and asked again, more quietly this time. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said you must be the product of True Love, because no ordinary kid makes her folks breakfast on a Sunday morning at nine thirty. But then again, I remember the night your mother and I conceived you and—"