Something Like Shame (BWWM)

Chapter 18

Nearing the end of autumn, tip-toeing next to winter, our house was crowded with guests.

Every nook of the place blurred with the festive smell of turkey and stuffing and pumpkin spice to a nauseating point. I couldn't escape it. There was chatter and laughter and, some time soon, I would have to venture out into it. But, it was just so warm and the air down there was way too heavy with obligatory smiles and small talk.

And so I didn't join them. In fact, I was still sitting at my desk because, as eager as I was to purge myself of Wick, I still had his and other final exams to prepare for. It was all coming too soon: the end of the first semester, admission deadlines, Seth's exposition.

Throughout the entire process, I'd been letting myself procrastinate and it was hitting me like I was a pebble lost in a current; I didn't know where to start. I did, however, master the art of multitasking. There I sat, brushing my teeth and reading along with our AP Literature study guide whilst pulling on a black jumpsuit I bought on sale from Macy's when the bell rang, yet again.

Joey, my younger cousin, yelled from his niche in the attic, "Aunt Shelley, someone's at the door!"

"Then, go get it, sweetie."

I could practically hear him rolling his eyes up there, "Henna?"

I was still brushing my teeth when I peeked out the window and saw Seth's car in the driveway. He, Ricky, and Linda were at the door in their versions of formal wear which consisted of Chucks and slacks.

Finally, I had my friends around to counterbalance it all. Quick, I spat out the toothpaste into a nearby plastic cup, wiped my face, and sprinted down the stairs, feet padding hard on the carpet with every thud, thud, thud, thud. Yet, as soon as I hit the final landing, my heart crystallized and shot down into the pit of my stomach. It hurt to be this nervous, it really ached. But, I couldn't express it because the very cause of this internal catastrophe would see the damage. There they were. I was dunked in water again at the mere sight of them, every sound muffled to a whirring hum.

She sat with him at the kitchen counter, demure and radiant in her violet suede dress, holding his hand as they whispered to one another. Rusty red hair pinned back, glossy, she smiled all too willingly at something he said to her in secret. Then, as if my stare was an unwelcome cat-call, she bristled and turned her gaze to see me watching her, plain-faced, awkward. And again, her lips curled into that damned persistent smile.
I smiled back. It may have been a poisonous one, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Henna, the door?" My mom slid by, fixing me with a glare.

"Hmm?" I blinked.

"Just go do something useful." She murmured, waving me away, "Help Auntie Emma slice the cake, baste the turkey for Darcy, entertain the guests, and stop standing there like that. Do something, please."

I moved past Joseph- who sat on the couch stuffing his mouth with potato skins and, by the time, I finished stirring the butter for the broth, Seth was already barreling through the kitchen door with his contraptions and film reel clanking as he cheesed from ear to ear.

"What happened to you? You're looking a little out there, Henna. Not that you're ever ugly or anything like that. You're the opposite actually. Especially tonight..." Seth cleared his throat, reddening in the face, "I mean, you look like you're going to be sick, is all."

I wiped the spoon against the edge of a pot, "Well, this place is kind of overwhelming right-"

"No, no, no." Auntie Emma, a robust mountain of a woman with grey hair closely cropped to her head, snatched the spoon right out of my hand, "Don't put that near the sweet potatoes. That'll ruin the dessert. Everybody comes for the dessert... Remember, Henna baby, they may stand for some of the main course, but the sweet stuff is the main event."