Twenty day challenge.

Day Eight

Day eight. *unedited*

We all crack a smile at Finch's feeble joke including Sophie he doesn't like to be criticized at the best of times, was this, what love was? When you realised your faults, but you accepted them and even laughed at them? "Well at least I don't nearly burn the kitchen every time I enter the room," she said in a joking semi-serious manner, she knew as well as the rest of us that Finch was joking, her food was good when she bothered to cook, but instead of gloating and rubbing it in our faces, she kept up the pretence that she was a bad cook even though we all knew better.

"Touché," Finch replied teasingly as he took the seat directly adjacent to me so we couldn't help but make eye contact I wasn't sure if he chose that seat deliberately or not. The food was delicious, and what makes it even more delicious was that it was cooked by my mum who was seldom home, and I think that things become even more special the less you have them, if you have them often then you stop realising how the little things could make you the happiest.

"So Ivy," mum began when we are all seated and reading to tuck in, even Finch has the grace to wait for all the food to be served up before starting; the probability that this gesture was to please and respect the presence of an adult (or in this case my mum), "I heard you went to the theme park with Oliver, Sophie and Georgie today, did you enjoy? Hm?" She asked, and I'm pretty sure that she is one of the few people who can call 'Finch' 'Oliver' and live to tell the tale.

"Yeah, Rory went as well," I said replying openly, relived that the question was one of those that supplied a simple answer, would she remember Rory though? Much like Sophie, mum only choose to remember the happy memories, but if she strained her memory further back she'd remember the boy with eyes the colour of chocolate and messy dark brown hair, the boy with the dopey smile, the boy who was my best friend once upon a time.

"Rory, who's Rory, hm?" Mum asked carelessly as she only gave me half of her attention, as she ate her food whilst we quietly conversed.

"He's the guy who-," Sophie began and I kicked her under the table, did she really have to bring that up? Seven years had passed it was time for Rory to be known as something other than the person who had a silly crush on Sophie, if only we gave him the chance he'd break out of his shell and evolve into the person he's always dreamt of being, maybe.

"He was my best friend in primary," I said interrupting Sophie, I wasn't surprised mum hadn't remembered him, in fact I'd be surprised if she did remember him; it was around the time when mum was only seldom home and she was working abroad for the best part of the year, at that moment my Aunt and Uncle took sole responsibility of looking after Sophie and I.

"Oh that Rory? Hm?" Mom replied as an epiphany appeared in front of her and a light bulb exploded in her mind, I still wasn't quite convinced that she knew who I was talking about but she seemed sincere enough. For all I knew she could bump into him at some point after today and still not recognise him. "Didn't he move... somewhere?" She said vaguely, using a vague noun, and I nodded.

"Yeah, but he came back," I said honestly that was the truth, out of the corner of my peripheral vision I can see Sophie and Finch both fidgeting for some unknown reason, my statement makes them look uncomfortable, I'm used to Finch's wild mood swings by now, but Sophie's moods seem to remain more or less neutral.

"Ah, nice..." Mum said and then her phone rings alerting her that she had ten unread voicemails left to read, "I need to check my voicemails I'll only be be a moment," she excused herself which was lucky because we had just finished eating, despite the fact that she was listening to voice mail she was speaking at a hundred miles an hour, and it looked more like she was having a full on discussion with someone instead of checking her voicemails. Oh well, that was nothing I assumed, she had just realised she had something to do, she doesn't have to tell us every little detail of her life does she? There's no law about not be able to extend the truth in some situations. But why did she lie? My inner conscious argues with my outer conscious by saying; maybe she did check her voicemails but when she was phoning back someone was in their house and she is having a conversation with them, which sounds like a reasonable, plausible excuse. But why am I still not convinced?