Paper Airplanes

The Clarke Household

"You're late." Dylan said as I entered his large home.

"Why thank you Captain Obvious. Anyway you're the one who made me walk." I said, admiring the beautiful house.

"Hey I told you to be on time." He retorted.

"Well I'd rather be late to this meeting than have my brother's fiancé go all bride-zilla on me I don't know about you, but I like my head exactly where it is."

"Whatever, let's just start with the questions. Follow me." He muttered disappearing deeper into the house.

"You sure say 'whatever' a lot." I mumbled. As I followed, I took the time to examine the vast mansion he lived in. The beige colored floor was shiny, as if it was just polished and the crystal chandelier hanging above the foyer looked as if it cost millions of dollars, it was so beautiful yet so delicate I felt if I stared too long it would crack and crash to the floor. Straight ahead, past the foyer was what looked like a living room that came straight out of a Better Homes & Gardens Magazine. The white plush sofas looked so sharp and clean, as the room itself was merely for decoration. A round glass coffee table sat in the center of the room with an expensive looking centerpiece with gorgeous white flowers blooming out of it. Intricate paintings hung from the walls and a huge window over looking their backyard put their lavish outdoor pool and deck on display.

Trying not to gape from the luxury of it all, I stumbled after Dylan down a hallway to the right which was highly decorated with pictures.

The wall was lined with them, each one having a different frame to separate it from the rest. Mostly all the pictures were family photos from events the Clarkes have attended or hosted throughout the years since they moved here. There was one though, that caught my attention the most, not because it was the largest family photo on the wall, but because it was the one where Dylan actually looked happy. All the rest he held a fake smile and a certain dull in his eyes, while this one, which looked to be taken when he was about five years old, he looked genuinely happy. His eyes twinkled with excitement and his dimples were clear in his cheeks as he gave off a cute toothy smile with a missing front tooth, I giggled at how cute he looked before moving on to the rest of the photos. I was just about to get a closer look on a Christmas one when I heard Dylan's voice behind me.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his tone so harsh I jumped and turned around.

"I-I was-I-uh-" I began backing up against the wall when I hit a picture, causing it to fall off its hook and onto the floor. When I heard the sharp sound of glass breaking, I winced closing my eyes. I had broken it. When I opened my eyes I saw Dylan's eyes trained downward at the broken picture frame by my feet, the picture still inside. Immediately I crouched down to pick up the mess I had made and began rambling.

"I-I'm so sorry I didn't mean to- I mean I was backing up, and I should've looked where I was going and I- I'm really sorry Dylan, I'll pay for-"

"Stop." He said.

I looked up, "What?"

"Just stop, I'll have someone clean up the broken glass." Dylan told me, his eyes locked on the frame.

"But Dylan I-"

"Just stop Harley! It's just a stupid picture frame with a stupid photo in it!" He shouted, then calmed down and took a deep breath before continuing, "Just leave it and come on."

And with that he turned and left, leaving me to either follow or pick up the mess I had made. Being the person I am I chose to pick it up.

"Oh no dear, you don't have to do that! It's my job to make sure the house is in order." I turned around to see a woman, maybe in her early fifties looking down at me with kind brown eyes.