The Valley
Last Christmas
"Welcome!"
Oh, how I've missed the countryside cottage.
From the wreath on the door to the garland snaking along the banister (is it wrong that I want to slide down it?) the Vaughn family manor's decked out in its classic Christmas charm. The welcome wagon's here, too, with sparkly smirks and calls-to-arms.
"Glad you made it safely!" the elderly lady with the red scarf says.
"Indeed," the elderly man with the ugly beige sweater says.
My grandparents haven't changed. I tolerate Grandmother's kisses. A handshake for Grandfather's fine. Auntie Elle?
"Mon chéri," I say. "Il...uh, est bon...de vous revoir!"
"Ha-ha! That's cute! Come here, you..."
You sound ridiculous. You won't keep this up. You never do.
"Here..." Grandmother hands our coats off to me after Auntie's hug. "...let him do it. Put him to good use. Heh."
It's routine for this coat wrangler. They go in the closet by the stairs. The pack around my shoulder. I ascend the stairs to the upper floor, then it's the second door to the left. That's been my room for five years. I get to share with...Jacob. He's supposed to get the air bed this year. Why is his junk on the regular bed? ...And where is he?
I guess I'm going to find out.
Allons-y!
Hands clasped behind my back, I step out into the chatty living area. I'd stay upstairs and draw, but Mom's just going to hunt me down and force me to interact because...holiday.
So, I put on my Sir Henry smirk and...
"Bonjour," is my repetitive hello.
You're not even doing the accent.
Tais-toi!
"Merry Christmas!" is usually their comeback, even if they're early.
Amongst the familial crowd, I can see whatshisname and his wife, drinking some wine. Whatstheirnames by the end table of chips.
Nathan and Allison.
Right. ...Who are they to me?
You can't remember your own family?
I see them once a year. Why should I remember?
Steph—
"Sorry!"
My other cousin, Daniel, nearly spills his drink when he trips on air. I remember him. He reminds me of Jack. He's a school year younger than me and lives in his own silly bubble. I remember overhearing a story he told two years ago about going to a "haunted" house on a dare and walking out with a girlfriend. I'm not sure how true that is.
Don't stand around, Stephen.
I feel like a third wheel.
Maybe because you never want to open up?
Auntie Elle's talking with Nathan and Allison. The chips tempt me. I can eat those all day. They're the Sun Chips I love. My parentals. They're indulging my grandparents in a story. Probably about one of Dad's projects. ...How do they do it?
They—
"Stephen!" Mom calls me. "Jacob's here!"
Jacob? Do I remember Jacob?
YOU ARE READING
Earhart & Noonan: An "Us Club" Novel (#1)(NaNoWriMo15)
Teen FictionFor the first twelve years of Stephen Vaughn's life, just trying to get others around him to pronounce his first name the right way ("Stee-vehn Vawn") has felt like the hardest task he's had to try and cope with. That is, until his perfect life with...
