If I Fell

4 | Later, Hater

❂ CHAPTER FOUR ❂

Why are people the way they are? It has been a question that I've mulled over often, as many others before me had too. Some say it's based on our genes, others believe it has to do with how we're raised. Although the nature versus nurture debate has been around for a long time, the answer seemed more complicated than that.

Just because two people were spawned and brought up by the same mom and dad, they didn't always end up the same. In my experience, they usually ended up polar opposites.

Take Scarlett and her little sister, Ash, for example. Despite them being sisters, they didn't share much in common besides the same parental DNA that gave them both pale blond hair and crystal-clear blue eyes.

Scarlett was feminine and willowy while Ash was a stocky and surly tomboy who hated the popular crowd. She especially hated me and wasn't shy about expressing it.

"Ugh, what is it still doing here?" Ash groaned when she tottered into the kitchen and saw me. Immediately after, her attention went to the stack of powdered pancakes, a recipe I learned from Rosie. "Who made those?"

"It's only me and you in the kitchen. Who do you think?"

Her face soured. "I bet they're not even that great."

"Try them and find out," I challenged, knowing that she'll be torn between her pride and hunger.

"Good morning, girls. Something smells delicious," Mr. Harrison chirped as he walked into the kitchen a second later. He turned to me, "Did you make these, Kat?"

I smiled and nodded.

"That's so sweet of you." He grabbed a plate and served himself. After he took a bite, he hummed contently. "Mmm. Delicious! They taste as good as they smell."

After a few seconds of careful consideration, Ash grabbed some pancakes and sat down on the seat farthest away from me. When she took a bite, her face went from sullen, to disbelief, and finally settled on reluctant satisfaction.

"So I take it you liked them, Ashleyann?" I gave her an innocent smile, knowing that she hated when people called her by her full name.

"It's Ash," she corrected sharply. "They're alright for designer trash, I guess."

"Don't be rude," Mr. Harrison reprimanded her. He pointed the bottom of his fork sternly at her. "And it is Ashleyann. We named you that for a reason."

"Was hating me the reason?"

"No." His frown deepened. "It was your grandma's name."

"Why should I suffer from having a stupid name too? Isn't it, like, a thing to want better for your kids?"

He turned exasperatedly to me and half-heartedly joked, "Sorry about her, Kat. She gets her brattiness from her mother, I swear."

"I don't doubt it. But at least Scarlett inherited your charisma and sophistication," I told him.

It didn't matter if it was exactly true. Although he was an art director, in his free time he was a dad's dad; the kind that told corny dad jokes and idly wore gladiator sandals with white socks. Still, I never dropped an opportunity to flatter authority figures and parents. Made it easier to get away with things.

"Yuck! Flirt with someone else's dad," Ash said with food in her mouth. I raised my eyebrows at that while suppressing the urge to gag at the chewed-up food moving in her mouth. She tilted her head back and squeezed syrup inside her already full mouth.