Goldilocks and the British Accent

19 | The Bane of All Things Male

The British Accent 🇬🇧

24 July, 1:30 p.m.

Dear diary,
Turns out that Kirrily and I didn't break up because, in a very unpractical universe, I was an incompetent boyfriend but rather because she had problems of her own. I had always noticed the eye bags and her affinity for long sleeves but I had been way too in over my head to take them seriously.
Perhaps if I had been a little more present or less hellbent on getting revenge on a particular someone, I could have helped. I would have taken them seriously. It wasn't too late though, boyfriend or not, I could still help. Unbeknownst to them, they had called 'me' their godsent hero. Duty called.

• • •

Like the poor planners they were, my parents had postponed the dinner. Father had got called for a meeting and was absent for the rest of the week. Me, I was too absent-minded to notice the passing time. I would go to school, come back, play the cello, eat, sleep and the next day, repeat. So it was definitely both a surprise and a bummer when Mrs Rosa came into my room and told me that the Lockes had arrived for the 'dinner' I had totally forgotten about.

There goes another weekend.

"Since when did dinner happen at one thirty pm?" I mutter to myself, holding up a plain t-shirt in front of me. I smile, father would scowl when he sees me dressed so casually and I would smile in my head. Mother would know exactly why I had chosen to dress like this and laugh at my pettiness. Sophia would be there too, looking clueless as usual. At the thought, I spray a little more cologne on my shirt.

The dining room is already buzzing with chatter and for the first few seconds, no one notices when I walk in. Everyone is seated around the long oval-shaped table. The chairs are placed in such a way that there's four at one end for the adults and four at the other for the rest of us so that in a way, we're all eating together but at the same time, we're not.

"Theodore," Mrs Lockes calls with a smile as I approach the table. In the corner of my eye, I notice Sophia as her gold mane snaps up sharply at the mention of my name. I also notice father scrutinising me with his sharp eyes, a controlled expression on his face.

"Hello Mrs Lockes," I reply. "Congratulations on the debate."

"Well, it's not exactly over," she says, her cheeks flushing. "But thank you."

"It might as well be and we have our anonymous hero to thank, whoever they are," I say looking directly at Sophia. "They deserve a peace prize."

Mrs Lockes laughs, placing a hand on her chest. "You can say that again."

They table is full of more food than is enough as is father's typical way. Everyone is present except Paige which isn't surprising. She'd come late and make a fuss about something, like the dramatic little shit she was.

Celestine is seated opposite Sophia slurping a bowl of hot chicken soup. I slowly pull out the chair beside her and sit. Perhaps, everyone had already exchanged pleasantries. There's an air of awkwardness but it's made comfortable by the abundant food and the adults chattering among themselves. The plate of pasta in front of Sophia is untouched and I notice an open pack of chocolate on her laps.

"Real subtle," I whisper.

She freezes, chocolate-holding-hand in midair, cheeks turning pink. "Look away," she says. "Can't a girl have some sugar in peace."

"You know there's chocolate shortcake an arm's length away, if you're that desperate. You don't have to hide."

She eyes the pile greedily. "I'm not desperate or anything," she says before reaching and grabbing one.