Alaska

Chapter 5

Hope and I were sitting with glasses of orange juice at the kitchen table. I took a sip of the cold liquid, allowing it to clear my head.

"You've never told me that you have a brother!" I hissed towards Hope accusingly.

She peeked at me from the corner of her eye, smirking knowingly. She must be used to the effect her brother has on people.

Patrick Martins.

He was currently dancing around the kitchen, making us dinner. He moved with such ease, as if his every move was precisely planned, not staggering one bit. He had the same big blue eyes his sister had, his hair slightly more yellow blonde than hers. His features were in perfect symmetry: Chiseled jaw, sharp nose, toned body. As if he just stepped out of a magazine cover. And that deep husky voice... He was to die for. And his sister was apparently well aware of it. He, on the other hand, not so much. He was kind and humble, not full of himself.

"Sooo... who's hungry?" Patrick turned around with a big bowl full of mac and cheese, a huge grin plastered on his face. He was visibly proud of his cooking accomplishment.

I laughed along with Hope, nodding with forks in our hands.

"Bon appétit!" He said as he dug his fork into the pile of pasta on his plate.

I hesitantly took a little bite too. It was surprisingly tasty. I didn't really have a good experience with men cooking in our family, so I was a bit skeptical at first, but Hope seemed to be used to Patrick's cooking because she ate a plateful without hesitation.

When we finished our meal, I got up to clean up the plates, but Patrick halted me in my tracks, getting up to take the plates away from me, throwing me a bright smile. "You're a guest here, Alice. Guests don't clean up the table." He winked at me and took the plates to the dishwasher.

Hope rolled her eyes and mumbled to me as soon as I sat down again. "He makes it seem like he's a gentleman, when in reality my mom would kill him if she found out that he had let you clean up the plates."

"When is she coming home?" I asked her once I stopped laughing at her remark. "I didn't have the chance to compliment her on the cake. It was delicious."

Hope shrugged. "I don't know, she usually stays late at the bakery, cleaning up and preparing stuff for the next day."

As soon as he finished up loading the dishwasher, Patrick stood in front of us, his hands on his hips. "Anyone up for some video games? "

Hope chuckled, picked up our OJ glasses and motioned me with her head to follow her.

Their living room was spacious, two big beige plush couches in the center, with huge flat screen TV at the opposite wall. This room might've just been bigger than our whole apartment! We sat down at one of the couches and waited for Patrick to pick out a video game for us to play.

*****

Patrick threw himself back at the couch, frustration on his face. Hope was spread out on the floor, laughing her butt off.

"No one's ever beat me in Injustice!" He huffed, throwing his hands in the air.

A smug grin was plastered on my face as I sat the controller down at the coffee table. I just shrugged. "What can I say? I have too many male cousins to spend my summer holidays with."

"But how can you be that good?! It's not humanly possible!" He pouted.

Hope reached out and nudged his arm with her fist, stifling a chuckle. "Don't be a sore loser."

Patrick was just about to say something back to her, when we heard the front door open and close loudly. A tall man, probably in his mid-forties, stepped in, dressed in a sharp navy blue suit, perfectly polished, with a briefcase in his hand. I guessed it was Mr. Martins, their dad. He looked tired, his blue eyes, the same ones Patrick and Hope shared, looked dull and older than his whole appearance. His hair was black, slicked back subtly,but he ruffled it with his fingers, as he ran them absentmindedly through his hair, reaching for the TV remote.

"Shouldn't you, kids, do something productive?" He said in a distant voice, switching to evening news.

I was surprised by how unwelcoming he seemed, compared to Patrick and Hope. He didn't even acknowledge my presence. I took it was my cue to leave. I got up from the couch and headed for the entrance hall. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Martins." I mumbled as I walked past him.

He barely nodded in response.

Hope and Patrick got up as well, following me out, but Patrick stopped in front of his dad, blocking his view of the TV screen.

"That was totally uncalled for, father. And rude, to say the least." He said, looking his father straight in the eyes.

Mr. Martins simply pushed his son aside, without saying a word, his eyes fixated on the news again.

Patrick took in a deep breath and the three of us walked to the front door. I picked up my backpack on my way out, throwing it on my shoulder, as I opened the door.

"Alice..." Hope started but Patrick butted in.

"I am sorry for my father." He mumbled. "He's a self-centered jerk."

"Patrick, hey, you don't mean that." Hope scolded her brother.

"Oh, yes, I do. He always leaves his manners at work. Heck, he should've just married his work. It's his most precious family member anyway." Patrick spat out angrily and quickly walked away and up the stairs without even saying goodbye.

We both looked after him, then Hope turned back to me, apologetic expression on her face.

I put on a weak smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. We all have issues. It's okay."

She just nodded, tugging the corners of her mouth up a bit. "Yeah, you're right. I am really sorry though."

"Don't be. I understand." I said as I walked out to the front porch. "Bye, Hope. See you at school." I waved at her and walked down the stairs.

I heard a faint goodbye behind me and then the doors closed.

Just when I thought that living without a father was bad. Apparently, even complete families had their serious issues.

***

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