The Lost One

10. Texas Toast

I became squashed between Connor and Jack, short between their two tall forms. If they wanted to talk to me, they would have had to look down, and Jack could, if he so desired, have a nice view of my breasts. Brilliant.

My parents struck up a conversation with Bob and Mary about where they came from in New Mexico.

"Jack was born in New Mexico in the hallway of the hospital on the way to a room. His mom was too much of a stubborn woman to go in before her contractions started hurting." Bob and his wife laughed at the memories of their daughter. I buttered a warm roll as I thought about Jack's parents. They were not here with them, and Bob and Mary were avoiding the subject of why. Something bad happened?

I licked melting butter from my thumb and sipped my Dr. Pepper. Our food was not here yet. In the large booth across from my brother, Jack, and I, Bob sat on the outside with his arm around Mary lovingly. My dad had his arm in a similar fashion around mom, who was to the inside next to Mary. I guessed it was a guy thing to sit on the outside and the women on the inside.

Jack's sweet scent drifted in in the low draft caused by the high ceiling fans. It entangled me and I felt my eyes closing for a few moments while I breathed. His scent seemed more potent than any scent I had smelled before. He carried the scents of his grandparents as they all lived together.

My dad cleared his throat. "How was your first day at Branson's farm?" he asked Jack, smiling nicely in the customary southern way with the friendliness that everyone seemed to posses except for me and Connor. We were assholes most of the time.

Jack swallowed his bite of roll. "It was nice, everyone's been helpful. I stepped in mud."

Mary laughed, her hand coming down lovingly on her husband's shoulder. Jack's face scowled like a child's at the thought of his ruined shoe. The people sitting behind us let out a roar of laughter at something that was said, causing me to put my hands over my ears and wince. One particular lady's high-pitched laugh stung my sensitive ears.

If anyone noticed, they didn't say anything.

A waiter and waitress came baring two trays of food, propping them on black tray stands and passing them out. Steam rose from the hot, fresh plates of food, all featuring fat, Texas toast. A bowl of apricot dipping sauce was sat at the middle of the table.

Hungry as I was, I went right into eating my food. Picking up my fork and steak knife, I cut into my steak. Feeling eyes on me, I froze. Beside me, Jack was looking between me and my steak.

"What?" I asked. I went back to cutting as Connor and Jack had a conversation over my head.

"She always eats that much," Connor noted.

"I'd be worried if she ate less," Dad commented from across the table, stabbing his baked potato with a fork. I put the first bite of medium rare steak into my mouth, moaning at the taste. Connor laughed at my enthusiasm. I swallowed that bite and already had another cut up to eat.

--Jack--

I almost spit my Dr. Pepper back into the glass when she moaned. Lidia was almost too thin to have such an appetite, so where did all that food go? From the little things I've heard about her and the limited time I've spent with her at the party and spending the night with her, she didn't do much hard activity to burn up a lot of calories. Typical lazy teenager.

In my mind I saw her red eyes, the cause of her pain, her eye disease that she didn't want anyone to know about. It changed her eyes from the hazel brown they were to deep red, a strange color to match the strange girl. Strange in her mannerisms, her appetite, and probably many other things. The way she talked to her friends like they had all grown up together- they probably had- knowing everything about each other. Did they know about her disease?

She lived free, hanging out and partying with those friends, drinking and smoking with those friends. She had a freaking motorcycle. She lived free.

--Lidia--

Towards the end of dinner, I was sitting back watching everyone else finish up, having already downed all my food, my toast, baked potato, steak, and a slice of cheesecake for dessert, and had to refills of Dr. Pepper.

I laid my head on Connor, his arm around me comfortably. My eyelids started to droop as sleep fought to take over. I was always dead tired after eating. Upon Jack's questioning look once again, Connor explained me to him. "She sleeps after she eats. Mom, Dad, we should take Lidia home."

I could hear mom in my semi-conscious state reply. "When everybody's done."

Connor moved his arm from underneath my head to over my shoulder. His warm scent smelled like home and helped me rest. Jack's scent was strongly prominent beside me, reminding me of his strange- dare I call it a connection- to me. The tiny voice that won't get out of my head was silent right now, yet seemed to bother me tirelessly when I wasn't with him.

I slowly fell asleep, my ears soothed now that the obnoxious gathering behind us had left the restaurant.

--Connor--

The time came when Mom and Dad decided it was time to leave, and I gently- very gently for I did not want the girl to bite my head off. She groaned and scooted out of the booth with her eyes still closed. I watched her with a smirk: she was always so entertaining. If she wasn't my sister, I'd marry her. Of course, we weren't blood, because mother could not have children, but it's still feel like it'd be wrong to have those kinds of feelings towards her.

LIdia stood up slowly, keeping a hand on the table to steady herself, her eyes still closed, and moved to teh side to let me out. The parents chatted animately with each other while Jack stood, watching Lidia, smiling. Me glanced up at me, and I gave him my best warning glance. She was my sister, off-limits. No exceptions. Even to some innocent farm boy.

I took Lidia's hand when my parents paid for everybody's meal and guided her out towards the exit. I glanced aroun at the diminishing tables and the employees wiping everything down. No one was paying attention to me.

I reached into the mint bucket and stuffed a whole handful in the pocket of my leather jacket. I ganced around one more time and caught Jack's eyes. They said, "Dude, why?"

I just winked at him and guided Lidia to the car.

The Taylors' Truck was parked right next to our vehicle, one empty space between us. Jack helped his grandmother into the passenger seat by Bob, so nicely I was going to puke. He didn't have a single mean bone in his body.

Standing at the base of the stairs, Lidia held her arms out like a bratty child. "Carry me..." she yawned and open and closed her fists, pouting. She probably couldn't make it up the stairs anyway by herself: she slept the whole way home while I tried to discreetly stuff a mint into her mouth without her noticing. I failed.

I rubbed my cheek where she had slapped me, letting it go for now and picked her up bridal style and carried her up to her room. I stomped over Mount Laundry and laid her down softly on top of her covers. She automatically cured up into herself. She seemed to shrink, just like she last night when she was sick.

I'll probably never know what the hell was going on there.