**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the Iron Fey series or Midsummer Night's Dream. Alex, Alex's family, Silvia, and Silvia's family are characters that we have created. **

Chapter 4

Handling my mom after work was easier than usual. I cooked her chicken chili and left as she was drifting off to sleep on the couch.

Lisa sputtered violently as I pulled into the driveway of 23 Avalon Court at 6:40. Late. Alex's house was a huge, Neo-French style home with an enormous, finely manicured and decorated lawn and a fountain in the center. There was a regal white archway above the wooden front door and a segment shaped like a princess's stone tower. It was two stories of pure architectural genius, infused with modern shades, creating basically my dream house. Can you understand why I would never pass up a chance to visit here?

After I walked up the stone steps, I rang the doorbell and waited patiently. A long, angular face that was mostly familiar, except for the new addition of five-o-clock shadow, greeted me.

"Oh, it's you." Ryan smirked, leaning lethargically against the doorway. "I didn't know there was an angel delivery service. I would have ordered you a long time ago."

I rolled my eyes, running through the mental list of all the pick-up lines I knew that would have been 200 times better than…ugghh. "Ryan, I hope you realize, just as much as I do, that that was awful."

"Feisty, feisty~." He replied flirtatiously, wagging his finger at me. "Maybe I should have said 'demon' instead of 'angel.'"

"Yeeeaaah. I don't think I'm the demon in this situation."

He eventually gave up, realizing that his jokes were heading nowhere. He turned his back to me and faced the thick central staircase with the red rug. "Alex!" He called, "Your girlfriend's here!"

I was so used to hearing that kind of ridiculous stuff from Ryan that it didn't even bother me anymore. I walked into the house and heard heavy footsteps speedily crashing down the staircase. I saw Alex's excited face peer over the railing.

"So, I've been upgraded to girlfriend, now?" I grinned at him playfully, keeping myself from chuckling as his glasses fogged up. I really shouldn't have found that as humorous as I did.

"Sh-shut up. Nice to see you, too." He hid his face and trudged down the massive hallway to the dining room, intending for me to follow him.

I took a quick curtsy, "Pleased to be here, young master." I said this softly. Alex hated it when I referred to his wealth like this.

Alex's mom was a chef who owned several restaurants and made a pretty good living for herself. Her ex-husband was an internet tycoon and a stock market success, so he made an even better living for himself. As far as I knew, they went through a pretty bad divorce three to four years ago, leaving Ms. Pierce with half of her ex-husband's money. That was enough to buy this miraculous house, put Ryan through school without needing loans, and give Alex anything he wanted. He was such a prince. He probably didn't see it that way, though. He probably missed his dad.

I wondered what that must have felt like. To miss a father.

The walls of the dining room were a dark gray, contrasting with the white carpet. An elegant chandelier with seemingly hundreds of candles hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. An elongated, mahogany dining table with an ornately decorated cloth running over it was perched under the chandelier. The table could seat eight, but there were only four white place mats set up around the stunning floral centerpiece. It was a compilation of burgundy red cymbidium orchids and white calla lilies, arranged in a smooth glass vase-

"Why, if it isn't my favorite little girl in the world!" Sang a melodious voice from the kitchen. I was faced with Alma Pierce, a strikingly beautiful woman with sky blue eyes, short, styled blond hair, and a slender body that even I would die for.

"Hey, Ms. Pierce." Even though the divorce had been…less than amicable, she didn't mind being called by her ex's last name still. She embraced me awkwardly, but I persevered until she was satisfied, even though skin-on-skin contact normally made me queasy. "Heard you made fettuccine tonight. I would die to have some." I peered at Alex from the corner of my eye and he chuckled.

She released me and clapped her hands together enthusiastically, "Well, I'm ecstatic that you're able to join us for dinner tonight, sweetheart! I think you deserve a break from cooking for yourself all the time!"

I smiled sardonically. She literally told me that same line every time I ate with them. Maybe she rehearsed it in the mirror, along with her poses for the modeling career that she probably kept on the side of her 'chef' cover-up. She was right, though. Even though I had the adult role in my household, it was beneficial to have a break once in a while.

But I would never say that out loud.

"Anyway, Charles should be coming out with the food any second. He's just placing it in a serving dish." She plopped herself into the seat next to Ryan. Alex sat across from his brother and I sat at the head of the table, in front of the huge window.

Charles was Alex's family's part-time butler. He was a regular employee at Alma's restaurant, but he apparently needed some extra cash, even though Alma was very generous with salaries. He helped out with chores on weekdays, between the hours of four and eleven. He got along well enough with the family that it wasn't weird. He kept to himself, so no one knew that much about him or his family, but he was nice enough.

Charles pushed a tray of plates from the open kitchen into the dining room. Wordlessly, the older man placed a china plate in front of each of us and excused himself from the room with a gracious bow. I bowed back, never really knowing how to properly answer, and hid my possible etiquette faux-pas by immediately turning to the plate and grabbing my fork.

The plate of food in front of me was…okay, honestly? It looked like an alien life form with clumpy white sauce and the scent of curdling cheese. I literally gagged. How could such a high-class chef be so horrible at preparing pasta sauce? She was great at everything else! I would never understand this woman.

"I spent almost two hours preparing dinner! I burned myself and everything!" Alma stated proudly as she swirled her fork around in the poisonous pasta disaster. "If you guys like it, I'll add it to the menu at the restaurant."

I avoided saying anything, fearing that, if I hurt her feelings by telling her how unnatural the dish looked, she might actually cry. And when she cried, it felt like the all of the sunshine, smiles, and rainbows in the world would suddenly turn to guilt, empathy, and dramatic reality show stars.

Alex nudged my left arm, raising a forkful of the ghastly dish. "Cheers?"

I sighed miserably and replied, "What the hell." We clanged forks together and shoved the pasta into our mouths.

I had expected the worst…and I got what I had expected. I felt my face warp into some unnatural, painful grimace. I clambered for my napkin, not wanted to be rude, but feeling the appalling taste spread throughout my whole mouth, throat, and stomach. Alex and I spat the food into our napkins, gagging to ensure that every bit of it was expelled.

Alma's hand flew to her mouth, "Oh, dear. Was it really as bad as the Stroganoff?"

"Worse…" I slurred through my coughing.

Alex was as green as the pasta sauce. "I second that."

Ryan started laughing so hard at our near-food poisoning that he had to grasp the table to settle himself. This mess didn't even bother Alma. She simply admitted defeat, "I'll have to try it again."

Everyone pushed away their plates after the incident, having lost their appetites. I should have eaten with mom, I thought regretfully.

Charles mopped up the clutter at the table while Alma, Alex, Ryan and I relocated to the living room to chat. Ryan only stayed for a few minutes before he had to leave to meet up with that tattooed girl. Most likely at a party or something. Alma was hesitant to let him leave, but they had probably formed some kind of agreement about his partying problem.

The living room had almost the same color scheme, with another beautiful floral arrangement on the glass coffee table, this one with red and white tulips, and Gothic red couches. Famous paintings adorned the wall, like a recreation of Théodore Géricault's The Raft of the Medusa, Diego Velasquez's Las Meninas, and, for some strange reason, Hieronymus Bosch's Garden of Earthly Delights. A similar chandelier to the one in the dining room hung in the center of the living room, between the seating area and the black Yamaha piano near the window.

Alma did most, if not all, of the talking. She summed up the events at the restaurant from the past couple of weeks. Business was going well, there was a problem with the air conditioning, customers were hitting on her, blah blah blah…

I cringed as she started bringing up questions about me. "So, Silvia, have you made any new friends lately?"

Was that a rhetorical question? Anybody could look at me and know the answer, right? I considered asking, 'Can your number of friends actually go into the negatives?'

I didn't say anything, but pursed my lips uneasily as memories resurfaced of this afternoon. She noticed my face and groaned. "What happened this time?" She pushed some of her gorgeous blond hair out of her face, making me feel even more insecure. She and Alex stared at me with worry and anxiety. My noiselessness and petrified eyes probably made me look like an effigy about to be burned at the stake. Fuck off, Alex! You know I hate to be stared at and you know what this is about!

I avoided Alma's eyes because I knew that her look of pure consideration would make me spill my guts. But I couldn't.

1. Because I didn't even want to think about it, let alone talk about it.

2. Even though I loved Ms. Pierce, I didn't want to give her another reason to baby me and create some new recipe for flourless chocolate cake to make me feel better. My pride and my stomach couldn't handle that.

"It's really nothing, Ms. Pierce. I just think the pasta isn't agreeing with me." I clutched my stomach, looking like I was faking period cramps instead of indigestion.

She knew I was lying. It was totally fucking obvious. I never said that I was good at acting. But she knew that, no matter how harshly she pressed for more, I wouldn't give her anything else. She had accepted that about me just as much as Alex had. She shook her head, as though that alone would clear the awkward conversation from her memory. "Anything else interesting happen?" She asked with regained vigor.

"Actually," Alex chimed in, frantic to smoothly integrate this new topic into the conversation. "There's a winter dance this Friday…"

Alma smiled and placed her elbows on her knees, leaning closer. "Do you guys have any plans? You two haven't gone to a high school dance before, right?"

"Silvie and I are going to the dance together." He stated, but the way he sad it was…weird somehow.

"Oh, really?" Alma crossed her arms, giving a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. "Do I need to give you kids a talk about drugs and drinking and sex—"

"We'll be fine, mom!" Alex grumbled, jaw set, but severely less imitating because of his cherry red cheeks.

Alma tapped a finger on her forearm and said with a teasing sneer, "As a date?"

God, I always had to deal with these kinds of assumptions. I started to answer, "N—"

But Alex squeezing my hand, causing me to stop and look to him. "Yes. As a date."

He must have been joking. I actually started laughing because I was so sure that he was joking. But his face was puffy and red, as though he were holding his breath in anticipation. His response also came out stern and clear, not in a stammer or murmur like usual. His face showed intent, but I was paralyzed. Why had the mood grown so serious?

With my eyebrows furrowed, I turned to Alex for an explanation. "R-really?" That was all I was able to choke out, but I had a myriad of other thoughts swirling through my head. I mean, Alex was cute and all, but…he couldn't have been serious, right? Not with me, right? Not when he had Aimee and all those other big-booged barbies at his beck and call…right?

He nodded unwaveringly and my heart fluttered for the first time in my life. Except in case of the guy with the Scooby-doo fruit snacks.

From the couch, I felt anger radiating off Alma's body, as though something we had done had shocked her. Had enraged her. Her face stayed stoic, but I saw the creases forming in her forehead and her fists clenching. I was extremely confused and, for a moment, I considered asking her what I had done, but the murderous aura disappeared as quickly as it had come.

What was that?

"Well, that's nice!" She cooed, sounding like her usual self. She stood up from the couch and brushed herself off, intending to excuse herself. "Silvia, sweetie, it's been wonderful having you and, I don't want to be rude, but do you mind going home? Alex and I had plans for tonight. Please come again soon, though, okay?"

Her smile, although it was wide, did not seem genuine. I felt the tension rise in the room and an unnerving vibe swarmed around all of us. I stood up stiffly, suddenly inclined to leave. I wasn't comfortable in situations that I didn't understand. "A-alright. Thank you for having me, Ms. Pierce." I gave one last wavering glance at Alex. "See you tomorrow?"

He nodded and slowly mumbled, "Uhh…yeah." He didn't even look at me. His eyes were stuck open and his face was pale, looking like he was scared enough to shit himself.

Both he and his mother simultaneously stood up, then rigidly headed back toward the kitchen without sparing another glimpse in my direction.

Peculiar.

I practically jogged out of the house, not daring to look in their direction. Something strange was going on, but I couldn't ask them directly. It felt taboo.

I shut the front door behind me, but I didn't head straight back to my car. Maybe I didn't have a good sense of creepy and not creepy from my years and years of never having friends, but I decided to take a peek at their conversation from outside of the house. I checked my surroundings to ensure no one was watching me, then I pounced.

I took a quick left onto the lawn and tip-toed until I was standing in front of the big window that saw into the dining room. I knelt down, not wanting to be caught and scolded. I peered over the edge and saw Alma and Alex come into view, stomping in from the kitchen. They both looked angry, and Alma stabbed a finger into Alex's chest.

The noise was muffled as I tried my best to listen through the window, but I could make out some syntax.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm just trying to be amicable."

"I've told you a million times before: you can't get too close to her."

Close to whom? Close to me?

"Alma," Did Alex just call his mother by her first name? "I'm not (fanging all pang exponentially cantankerous)." I was sure that he said something completely different, but he was mumbling, so it was difficult to make out through the glass.

Alma paused. "You have to (porn?) me before you (pie nougat) closer to her." So, I'm pretty sure that that was "warn" and not "porn," but that is what I heard.

I couldn't see those two, but I could tell that Alex sighed, giving in. "Fine. I'll be more careful."

Be more careful of what? They were obviously talking about me. What had I done?

I ran back to my car, not sure if their conversation was absolutely over, but also not wanting to hear any more. What was wrong with me, sneaking around and peeking on my friend like that?

I had nearly made it to my car when I saw something fast and silver flash across the garden. I raised my head for a moment, intending to investigate that too, but my mind was already jumbled. Let's chalk it up to being a bunny on caffeine. Whatever. I didn't need any more complications. The Pierces' behavior was already puzzling me to no end.

On the drive home, I blasted the radio as loud as I could. I didn't care what Macklemore could buy with the twenty dollars in his pocket, but I wanted to drown out my mixed thoughts as quickly as possible.