star-crossed

vi. one heck of a party

"Excuse me? I asked for this salsa to be mild, not medium. And this queso is still rubbery! Heat it up again!" Viola's father screamed. She winced. That poor caterer. He didn't know what he was getting himself into when he agreed to work a Sinclair party. Her father shook a piece of paper in the caterer's face. "Do you know how to read?" The man nodded. "Then why is the salsa medium when this clearly says mild?"

"I'm sorry sir, I—I grabbed—"

Her father held his hand up. "Don't bother." He threw the menu down. "Any burnt tongue injuries or complaints will be taken out of your pay." He looked up the stairs, and Viola pressed herself against the wall, her breath catching in her throat. "Viola, don't you dare let yourself be seen once the guests get here."

"I won't!" she called, peering out around the corner and flashing a dazzling smile. She ducked back and turned to her sisters, a look of disbelief mixed with fear painted on her features. "What's gotten into him?" she asked.

"You know how he gets before a party. It's not your fault," Ophelia said.

"I never said it was."

"Your face betrays you," Olivia said. "You looked a little terrified." Her face changed. "Hey, uh, Vivi?"

Viola raised one eyebrow. "You haven't called me that since you were like, four and didn't know how to pronounce your Ls." Olivia shook her head. "Uh uh. Don't pull that. I see through your lies. What is it?"

Olivia sighed. "The back of my dress came unsnapped. Can you fix it?" she asked, pulling her cardigan down and pushing her ponytail to her shoulder.

"Why didn't you just say so?" Viola asked, fumbling with the buttons. "It's not like I'm going to say no and tell you that you have to go down there with your dress half fastened. I'm not dumb."

"It's more fun to harass you, Vivi." She flicked Viola's nose. "Thanks, by the way." She put her finger under her eyelash and blinked, shaking her finger when she was done to get the residue off. "This mascara is so aggravating, I swear. I'm never wearing it again."

"I hope not. It's mine," Ophelia said. Olivia rolled her eyes. "But it does make you look fantastic, so I guess it's okay." Olivia clucked her tongue and popped her head upwards. "I take that back. That was dumb."

"Rude," Olivia said. They laughed. "So, are y'all ready for the party?" Viola shook her head.

"Why not?" Ophelia asked, looking right into Viola's eyes. She took a step back.

"Dad's going to make me dance with Lennox," she answered, her feet scuffing the floor. "He thinks it'll help him get another promotion soon if I'm close with him. It's got nothing to do with wanting me to be happy." She laughed. "It wouldn't surprise me if that was the whole reason we were having this party."

"You know that isn't true. Dad loves you." Ophelia pulled her into a hug without warning.

"As if! He loves the idea of me, not me. This is just another attempt to cram me into his mold." She scoffed, spraying spit on her sisters. "Sorry." Olivia cringed and made a big show of wiping her brow.

The doorbell rang, and the sisters pressed themselves back against the wall. "Who is it?" Olivia whispered. She moved to lean forward, but Viola and Ophelia stopped her.

"Dunno. It's not like I can see, and even if I could, Dad told me I can't let myself be seen until he announces me, remember?" she said, the words than she expected. Olivia recoiled, moving closer to Ophelia.