Disclaimer: I own nothing other than a few original characters (And for most of the places that are mentioned: if you haven't heard of it, chances are that they are fictional)!
Enjoy!
Cringe
Derek, Lynn, Chase, Lilly, and I shuffled awkwardly downstairs to dinner. Back at our old house, we ate dinner whenever we wanted. We rarely had the entire family sit down together to eat an entire meal in peace. Whenever we actually ate together, we usually ended up fighting with my mom about our financial instability with the gas prices all over the place and the prices of everything in general sky-rocketing. With her alcoholism, plates would eventually be thrown and you'd have to dodge them like bullets. So, if Derek ever tells you the whole story about how he fell off his bike after dodging a pick-up truck that was coming his way when he was 10, you'll know the actual story of how he got that faint scar beneath his right dimple.
This was completely new to me. I've seen people do this on TV and in movies, but I never thought I'd ever be a part of it.
Simply put, I was scared to death about what I should say.
I mean, I had the main gist of it. All you do is talk about your life…right?
I snuck a look over at Derek, but along the way of searching for his face, I saw fear and nervousness in all my other siblings' eyes.
We can do this, I told myself, just be normal. Lucille's pretty cool. Troy's gorgeous and still my best friend. How bad could it be?
We got to the nice kitchen and I saw another new face.
"Hey kids, this is Nathan. He lives across the street," Lucille introduced him.
Then, a very tall guy walked out of the bathroom. He had sandy blonde hair and greenish-gray eyes.
"Hey dudes, I'm Ben."
We waved a bit, and stood there. Who would sit where?
Mr. Bolton saw the stillness of our statures so he gestured gently at the seats. "Sit wherever you want."
"Thanks, Dad," Derek said. I felt kind of bad since I didn't feel as comfortable calling him that. I didn't feel comfortable calling anyone that.
"Yeah, of course," he replied, looking down at his food.
I wandered toward the seat beside Troy, and made my way so that I was actually sitting.
"Hey," Troy said to me. "I'm clean now." He leaned over and hugged me. "I still can't believe it. You've changed."
His eyes seemed to sparkle as he said that.
"Change? Really? Is it a bad change or a good change?" I blurted out, still stunned by his glory.
"Good, definitely."
As the whole family was chattering about who-knows-what, everyone just stopped at once.
Next thing I knew, everyone was bowing their heads except for my brothers and sisters and me. I shot a worried glance at Derek, and we both just bowed our heads to follow the rest.
"Heavenly Father, I thank you for this food that we are about to take. Through Jesus Christ our Savior, Amen," Jack said.
I've never said grace before a meal in my entire life. I just nodded and mimicked whatever Troy did.
There was already food on my plate, and I started with the steak. This was probably the first time in a long time that the food I was eating wasn't either burnt, microwaved, or stale.
In fact, it was DELICIOUS. I went for the mashed potatoes and gravy, and then the mac-and-cheese—again, not microwaved.
The entire family talked about school, sports, cooking, sports, grades, sports, music, sports, and current events. Oh, and did I mention sports? It was like what defined their family. Their entire clan could talk about the Pittsburgh Steelers for the entire day, and then go about the next day about the Atlanta Thrashers.
The annoying thing was that the rest of my family could go on about it also: Derek about skateboarding, Lynn about soccer, Chase about soccer and hockey, and even Lilly could talk about her ice-skating.
But not me. I—the retarded older sibling who quit sports to support a whole family of six and one dog—enrolled myself in gymnastics when I was nine, and made it to Level 6 in only three years. People said I was good, but I begged to differ. I couldn't suffer the intensity of regret or remorse of quitting where I was at that point of my life.
I sat there, my stomach fully content, for the cue for me to leave, but it didn't come. Instead, Lucille got up and brought a chocolate pie to the table that was on a china plate.
She cut out a piece, first for her husband, then Ben, and circled the table all the way until it got to Troy and me.
If the main meal was good, then this was heaven.
I ate slowly: stabbing it with my fork, then bringing it to my mouth.
The entire time I thought Don't look too stupid in front of Troy, please!
And seriously… I didn't want him to think I was retarded even though it was hard not to after everything that I had said earlier. Sure, he knew me as a person already, but your first impression of meeting them is completely different.
Nathan and Troy got up and brought their plates to the sink. I followed shortly, joining Lynn and Derek.
I had a feeling that I had chocolate pie smothered all over my mouth, so I went into my room to freshen up for bed before Troy could say anything to me. I got ready for bed way earlier than I actually got into my bed. I wouldn't sleep until very early in the morning taking care of household chores, but then after I was done, I could pass out without having to go and brush my teeth or take a shower.
It was then that I realized I didn't have my clothes and they were probably still sprawled out on the lawn.
I treaded slowly back down the stairs to retrieve my clothes.
I opened the front door and was relieved to see that no suitcase burglar came to steal them. I bent down to pick up Lynn and Derek's suitcases, surprised at how much they packed.
One moment I'm struggling with the weight of these two extremely heavy bags, and the next I find these tan-skinned hands helping me with them.
I look up and see that Troy Bolton was leaning so close to me that his glowing brown hair hit my eyelashes.
"Can I help you with that?" he asked in a sweet voice.
"Um, yeah," I replied dumbly yet again.
I watched him pick them up easily with his muscular arms.
"That's a nice leather sweater you got there," I commented. WHAT'S WITH THIS ENDLESS STREAM OF EMBARASSING STATEMENTS?!
Let me tell you the two main things wrong with that sentence…
1) He wasn't wearing leather.
2) It wasn't a sweater, but a regular, long-sleeved, cotton shirt!
"I mean—shirt. That's a nice shirt," I corrected myself even though it was too late.
"Thanks… I guess."
I mentally cursed at myself and followed him back into the house with Derek and Lilly's bags, both of which were rather light.
He dropped them off at the top of the stairs and waited for me to put mine down.
"Hey, I'm going to the beach party their having down at St. Marcela's tonight. I wasn't planning on bringing anyone, since I didn't know you were moving in with us, but... Do you want to come with me? I think I was supposed to invite some friends, but all my friends are going with their girlfriends," Troy said.
I smiled at the thought of hanging out with him at the beach.
"Sure. That'll be fun," I accepted. Wow… That was the first not-so-stupid thing I've said to him ever since I entered the house. "When does it start?"
"Now. Well, actually in like 30 minutes, but it takes about that long to walk there."
"Oh, okay. Let me go get a jacket."
I ran toward my new room and grabbed the blue North Face jacket that was sitting on my bed from earlier today.
I got back to Troy and we walked out the house, through the neighborhood, and on our way to the beach.
It was rather quiet at first.
My mind kept bickering with itself while we continued to walk. Should I say something? Should I wait until he has something to say? What should I do?
Soon enough, he started conversation himself.
"So… You're starting school on Monday (I don't remember what day I said it was earlier in the story, so I'm making it Saturday) at Aldridge, right?"
"I hope so. Thanks for picking up my schedule, by the way. I was wondering, though, how you didn't come across my name in the process. You were bound to see the name Gabriella Montez written somewhere."
"No problem. I wasn't the one who asked for it. My mom made the calls and all that. All I did was show up at the front office to get it," Troy explained.
"Oh, right." I sighed. "How could this be? It's a one-in-a-million chance that your mom would be dating my dad. It's another one-in-a-hundred chance that my mom would end up where she is and I'd have to move in with my dad. You living with my dad is a one-in-a-thousand chance, and living under the same roof as each other in Los Angeles without knowing that were going to is totally a one-in-a-billion chance. So how many zeroes is that?"
He chuckled. "Shouldn't you know? Last time I checked, you got a 5 on your Pre-Calculus AP Final, and I just flunked my last math quiz."
"So in other words, you're saying that I'm smarter than you?"
"Basically," he admitted, smiling. "So how do you like LA so far?"
We passed a sea of stones and pebbles as I answered.
"There are a lot of cars… and traffic. And it's pretty loud. I don't like being around all these rich people." Once I started, I kind of accidentally went on about everything I didn't like. "The pollution seems pretty bad. There's no place around here where it's just open space. I feel like I might run into Paris Hilton if I'm not careful, and I hate how there aren't too many trees other than palms. But… I like your house. And your family. Two big pluses."
"Oh jeez, thanks. But you're right. My house is pretty cool. And my family is pretty awesome," he joked. "Just kidding. It's kind of our house now."
"Any other amazing things I should know about?" I teased.
"Yeah, actually… The dork that lives across the street, Nathan—the one who was at dinner—has almost everything the White House has and more. Oh, and it's pretty cool having three new sisters, and two new brothers."
I nodded.
"Of course. Now I have two extra brothers." I went along with it.
We stopped talking for a moment as the music got louder and louder. I could hear the splashing ocean water. As we walked toward the bonfire, two guys were having a chugging contest. I assumed it was beer, but I was wrong. The aroma that tequila gave off was all too familiar to me. These people really were rich.
Troy walked over to the party table.
He reached over and grabbed two cans of beer. He held one out to me. "Want one?"
I shook my head quickly and reached for a bottle of water. "No, sorry, I don't drink."
Alcohol has brought me way too much trouble in life for me to start drinking again.
He looked down at the tin cans and shrugged. He tossed one back into the iced cooler and popped the other open.
Seeing him drink killed me on the inside. I couldn't describe how I felt whenever I saw my mom drink, and watching anyone that meant something to me do it, even for fun, just made me cringe, knowing what it did to me.
So I posted this one pretty early because I won't be able to get another chapter for another week. Although, if you review, I'll work extra hard! :)
