When the doorbell rang, I immediately abandoned the entry and tossed the book onto my dark oak dresser, followed by the black ballpoint pen I was writing with. It hit the wall instead, probably marking the lavender paint, but I didn't care. I started towards the door, trying (unsuccessfully) to hide the huge smile on my face. That is until I caught my reflection in my vanity mirror. I bit back a scream. I had spent so much time daydreaming that I hadn't even bothered to change out of the jogging pants and T- shirt I was wearing, complete with cooking oil, Windex and other less desirable liquids…

"Cassandra!" A small squeaky voice cried from the bottom of the stairs. "Your boyfriend's here!"

A scowl twisted my features accompanied by a scarlet red blush. "Krissy!" I scolded my five-year-old sister. "He's not my boyfriend!"

Shoving the closet doors open, I rummaged frantically until I came across a teal halter-top and a blue tier skirt.

"She really likes you", Krissy told Jason. "You should read her diary sometime".

I moaned in embarrassment. "Mooom!"

"Krissy, stop!"

My sister's giggles slowly died down and I knew that everything would be fine. For the moment…

I kicked off the jogging pants and pulled the T- shirt from over my head. Then, shoving them both under my bed, I stepped into the tier skirt, pulled it up, and clasped it in the back. The soft material fell gently over my waist and a smile curved along my lips when I looked in the mirror. Now for the next step…

The teal halter easily fit around my midriff. I lifted the straps and tied them behind my neck. My nails were already polished a shimmering silver from the day before. The only thing left to worry about was hair and make up. I winced. Krissy had started up again downstairs.

"She didn't mean to be late. She's just real nervous", the girl went on and on. "See, she's never been on a real date before".

I froze and let myself sink to the carpet.

He was not supposed to know that.

Too humiliated to yell downstairs at my sister, I glanced up at the mirror to see the face that I never wanted to show in public again. I thought of Jason telling all of his friends and groaned.

"Cassandra". My mother's voice called from outside of my room.

I didn't answer.

"Cassandra?" It came again, this time more concerned.

I frowned and bit my bottom lip. I couldn't ignore my mother. No matter what Krissy did to me. Reluctantly, I rose from my spot on the rug and flung the door open, a fake smile plastered over my lips.

"Hi mom".

The woman laughed and shook her head, auburn curls bouncing playfully at the sides of her heart shaped face. A nostalgic grin formed as I remembered the days when I would intertwine my tiny fingers within her hair. It never failed to amuse me that there could be anything so beautiful. My hands found my own soft curls. The texture was hers, but the rich, dark color was my father's.

"Cassandra?" my mother's soft, knowing voice brought me back to reality.

"Hm?" The fake grin was less difficult to maintain now.

"Don't try to trick me. I've raised you for sixteen years. I know when something's bothering you".

My smile sank right back down.

"Cassy…"

I gave a weak grin and let her wrap her arms around me. She was the only one who could call me that. Leaning her head against mine, she led me across the room and pulled out a chair from my vanity. "Sit down"

I did.

"Now tell me what's wrong".

I smirked. "Why don't you ask your daughter?"

She returned the smirk. "I am".

"The evil one".

She laughed. "I made your sister go to her room".

I crossed my arms. Well, it was about time. At least she wouldn't be bothering Jason anymore.

"She was only trying to help. You know that".

I scoffed. Yeah. If by help, she meant embarrassing me to death.

"She's only five, Cassandra".

Defiance still clouded my eyes, but I could feel my resolve slowly weakening. "I know, but…"

"Why do you think she always follows you around? You're her role model".

Something inside of me brightened and I beamed with pride. "How do you know?"

She picked up a comb and ran it through my dark tresses, a sly smirk playing on her lips.

"You should read her diary sometime".

"Mom!" I shoved her playfully and laughed as she put the comb down and joined in. My laughter suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

"Have you read mine too?"

"You have one?" she asked, lining my lips with gloss.

"You know I do".

She smiled. "No, Cassy. I don't have to read your diary. I know I can trust you".

What should have been heartfelt emotion at a strong family bond came as cruel disappointment. My mother seemed to sense this and we both remained silent for the rest of our time together.



The dining room lights shown brightly over the glass dinner table, an array of fresh aromas simmering from the dishes on the counter.

"This is delicious!" Mr. Blain raved for the hundredth time over my cooking. I just smiled and stifled a giggle as Jason mouthed "Sorry", embarrassed by his father.

"It isn't that great" my fourteen- year- old cousin from hell sneered at me from his side. "Maybe you should have let your mom cook".

"Alana!" My grandmother scolded her from across the table. "Don't start up again. Do you have to do this every time we come to visit?"

"No, that's alright, mom", my father smirked from the other end of the table. "I have a better idea, Alana. Why don't you whip something up this Christmas?"

The whole room- with the exception of Alana- fell into bouts of laughter. She didn't retaliate. She couldn't. Everyone knew that Alana couldn't get pass pouring a bowl of cereal, if that. My father winked at me, a sparkle in his hazel eyes and I winked back.

Alana just shrugged and scooted her seat closer to Jason's. This sent a fiery rage rushing through my veins. She'd been hitting on him all day, but as usual, I decided not to say anything. After all, he wasn't interested in her. At least I didn't think so…

"So Cassandra!" my grandfather smiled at me. "You've finally gotten over your fear of boys".

I felt my body tense and the grin curved right back across Alana's lips.

"Er… since when was I afraid of-"

"You remember". They insisted.

"No, I don't". I laughed nervously and picked up an apple pie. "Anyone for dessert?"

They ignored me.

"Remember the junior high dance?" Alana laughed deviously. "When Aaron Jackson tried to kiss you and you-"

"That was seventh grade!" I snapped, cutting her off. "Get over it. It's not funny anymore".

"He was this close to her". Alana went on, scooting so close to Jason that they were less than an inch apart. "And she just freaked out".

"Alana…" My grandmother finally sensed my discomfort.

"She probably hasn't even had her first kiss yet".

I trembled in anger and shame, trying my best to ignore the sympathetic frown I was getting from Jason.

"And if you try, she'll probably freak out again".

"Alana!" I heard my father's stern tone over the raging voices in my head. And they were all saying the same thing.

One.

"You might as well give up"

Two.

She shook her head in feigned compassion for him. "Dating Cassandra is like dating a nun".

Three.

Something inside me exploded. "Better a nun than a filthy skank like you".

Alana's eyes widened along with everyone else's at the table. "Wh- what?"

"Don't play stupid, Alana". I had no intention of stopping. "Why don't you tell the family what you do on your spare time?"

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Oh, I think you do". My mind scanned through the various stories she'd told me, so sure that they'd stay a secret. After all, Cassandra wouldn't tell a soul.

Bullshit.

"Remember that time in sixth grade when-"

"Stop!" She rose, slamming her palms down on the table.

"When you and Brandon Hayes-"

"No!" Alana's scared eyes had ventured towards her grandparents. They were her only close family and if they tossed her out on the streets, she'd have no where else to go.

"You're right. I have a better one", I beamed, taking pride in my revenge. "Remember your eighth grade sleepover when grandma told you not to invite guys?"

"Cassandra, please!" she stared at me, tears in her eyes. "You promised!"

I tried to feel remorse. I really did. But years of teasing and ridicule made it less than easy. "Not to mention just last year in church-"

"Cassandra!" My father, recovering from his awe at my outburst, stood from the table. "That's enough! You can stop now".

I scoffed. "You can kiss my a-"

I stopped in mid- sentence and waited for the day dream to fade away. It had to be a day dream. Of course it was. There was no way I could tell my father something like that. There was no way I could get away with it…

I shut my eyes tight.

I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming.

I opened my eyes, hoping to see the dinner table as it was before. My grandparents laughing jovially, my father winking and making sarcastic remarks, Mr. Blain stuffing his face, and his son giving me silent apologies, that embarrassed grin stretched over his lips. I even wished for Alana's teasing smirk. Instead, I was greeted with the same horrified expressions. Mr. Blain had looked up from his meal to stare at me. The disappointment in my grandparent's eyes was unbearable. My father looked as if he couldn't decide whether to be angry or just dumbfounded. Alana was weeping now and Jason sat at her side comforting her. He was comforting her. I snapped my head away and tried to clear the image of his arms around her, holding her. Words finally found their way through my dry throat and I uttered the only few I could manage at the moment.

"I… I didn't mean… I'm really-"

"Cassandra?" My mother stood with Krissy at the kitchen door, a warm smile on her lips. A few grocery bags lay at her side. She glanced around and her features clenched with worry. "What'd I miss?"

With that said, I shoved my chair to the side, dodged past my mother, and out of the kitchen. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I raced up the stairs and towards my room. I thought of going back, but then I'd have to face my parents again. Plus, she'd see me crying. I shook my head and wiped a few tears away. No. I wouldn't give her that pleasure.

A knock came at the door.

"Mom, I really don't feel like talking right-" I gasped as Jason stepped into the room, his aqua eyes tired and distressed.

I buried my face in the pillow. "I'm sorry if I upset your girlfriend. You can go now".

He didn't. Instead he sat beside me on the blue, satin covers and ran his fingers through my hair. I breathed in the scent of his cologne and considered coming out.

Nah…

He chuckled a little and I wondered what could possibly be funny. "She's not my type. I just felt kind of bad for her. I didn't have the heart to push her away".

Alana's sobs evaporated from downstairs. I rolled my eyes. She was going to milk this for all it was worth…

He shook his head. "She'll change. She's probably just going through a rough time".

"Yeah", I groaned, my voice muffled by the pillow. "A really hard time".

He laughed some more at my sarcastic attitude. "She doesn't have it all together like you".

This time it was my turn to laugh. I rose from the pillow, a "you-can't-be-serious" look on my face. "You actually think I have it together?" I shook my head and walked across the room to the vanity seat where I rested my chin on my palms and stared at the worn-out girl in the mirror. I definitely didn't have it all together…

"Come on, Cassandra" I felt his hands on the back of the chair and looked up to see him watching me from the mirror. "I finally got you out of the pillow. Don't walk away now".

A slow half- smile slipped onto my face. Then I remembered something. "I'm so sorry we ruined your Thanksgiving. It probably would have been better if you'd stayed at home".

"Believe me, it wouldn't". He frowned bitterly. "And don't beat yourself up. If I had a cousin like that, I'd probably go off too".

We both laughed for a while.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" I asked, worriedly.

"I think her grandparents were more shocked at you than anything. She'll be fine".

"Thanks", I gave him a cynical smirk. "That really cheers me up".

"Hey, they can't stay mad at you forever" He wrapped his arms around me from behind. "Remember what I told you yesterday?"

Starting from 'A' or 'Z'? I'd only gone over the conversation in my head about fifty times...

"You have a beautiful smile". He rested his chin on my shoulder. "Try not to waste it?"

I forced a smile and looked up at him.

"Jason!" Mr. Blain's voice traveled upstairs. "Let's go!"

"I'm coming!" he called down. "But first…"

He took my hand and gently pulled me up to face him, guiding me closer and closer. When we were finally about an inch apart, he pressed his lips against mine, soft and warm. My arms found my way around his neck and I was on cloud nine for the next few moments. He finally pulled away and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Call me tomorrow". He walked across the room and disappeared with a wave. I heard him and his father thanking my parents and finally the door slamming. Eventually, the other guests departed and I could hear my father's heavy footsteps treading up the stairs. He had come to lecture me no doubt, but I wasn't worried. I had told Alana off for the first time in my life, kissed Jason Blain, and I was smiling.

And this time, it was for real.


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