Chapter 7 - Chaotic Thanksgiving Dinner:

I slowly made my way downstairs, the sound of my relatives chatting with one another becoming louder as I descended.

Before I had the chance to reach the last step, one of my cousins had already caught sight of me.

"Valerie!" He called out, pushing his way past his parents to get to me. "We were all waiting for you! Come on, dinner's ready." He – Enzo – grabbed my hand, hastily pulling me toward the dining room. Enzo was about twelve and quite short for his age as it was, but he still managed to drag me half across the house with no trouble at all.

When we reached the dining room, all conversation dulled to an end. All eyes were on me. I felt heat creep over my cheeks as I pulled away from Enzo's grasp and sat on the very far end of the table. I rolled my sleeves up, tried to look confident in who I was, and sipped on my water.

My relatives sank awkwardly back into conversation. Some of them still threw me some side glances, but I already felt a little calmer.

I remember when things used to be different, and they didn't look at me like I was seriously messed up in the head and should be directed to with extreme caution. Only my aunt and Enzo acted like I was normal. And Enzo probably only treated me normally because he doesn't know. I hardly think that counts.

I felt a shy tug at my sleeve. I looked sideways at Enzo, "You okay?" He asked, leaning from his chair.

I smiled softly at him, nodding once.

But I don't think I was. I could still feel a few stares. One of which I just knew belonged to my mother.

"Alrighty, family," Agatha's sugary voice boomed from the kitchen, her apron hanging loosely on her figure as she waltzed in with the turkey, "the time we all waited for has arrived!"

Everyone cheered in delight, already forgetting the whole ordeal with me. At that moment, I couldn't have loved Aunt Agatha more.

As she set the tray down in the middle of the table, her gaze darted my way. She seemed surprised at first, but then smiled at me.

After prayers, everyone dug right in. Out of the whole family, everyone knew Agatha's cooking was the best – as crazy as she could be sometimes.

I waited for my relatives to grab some things before I did. Everything is going well so far, I remember thinking.

But then...

"Aren't you going to eat anything else, Valerie?" I cringed. My mother's sharp sharp sharp voice called. I don't think I've ever heard her voice sound so judgmental before.

I raised my eyes. "No... I'm just waiting for everyone else to get their food first," I replied shyly.

"Oh." My mother wasn't expecting that. I wonder what she thought I was going to say.

"That's really polite, Val. We've raised you well." My dad chimed in, pushing his glasses back as he passed me the mashed potatoes.

I didn't even have the chance to withdraw my hand from the table before my grandmother said, "She wouldn't be living here if you had raised the girl right, Walter." She huffed, throwing daggers at both my parents.

Silence.

No more sounds of utensils clashing with the fancy porcelain plates Agatha saved up for. Suddenly my eyes are glued to the fine china, refusing to go anywhere else.

Even so, I could still see my parents' cheeks burn and their eyes drop from the corner of mine. They were ashamed. I was, too.

My aunt was the first to break that suffocating silence; "That's enough, mom! Valerie is a great girl and we all love her." She huffed, holding her arms across her chest.

"Yeah, granny," I hear Enzo's sweet, innocent voice beside me. "Valerie's super awesome. Why would you say that?"

Oh no. Please don't tell him.

No one responded. They just went on as if nothing had happened. But it was too late. I could already feel hot tears escaping my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to hold them back.

"Val?" I feel Enzo's tiny hand on my arm. Agatha threw her napkin on the table and was about to stand up, but I darted out the dining room quicker.

And so I was off. Out the door. The freezing cold biting my hot tears as I dashed across the road, far far away from that nightmare.

'Please, please, please, please don't let anyone tell Enzo'; I kept repeating that over and over in my head. Everyone already knew and I couldn't handle having him look at me weird too. I love my mom. I love my dad. But I missed being part of the family so much it ached like a hot iron rod through the heart. It was like they didn't even know me anymore.

Suddenly I stopped sprinting. My knees wobbled and I fell to the cold pavement, my arms wrapped tight around my stomach. I felt sick. But I couldn't go back. And I knew I had to but at that moment I couldn't bring myself to.

I realized then I was quite a few streets away.

At night, this place looked almost normal. Suddenly, it didn't look like this beautiful utopia I had built up in my head. It just looked like an ordinary town in the Mideast. I let myself lean against the wall of a house and calm my breathing.

I stayed like that for a while and though of anything but what just happened. I though of the upcoming test on Tuesday, that one fashion TV series Rosa was begging me to watch, people at school...

Then, the lights of the house behind me turned on. My heart dropped onto the pavement. I scrambled to get up as I heard the loud footsteps inside lazily walk towards the front door. I wasn't even making any noise!

I managed to stand on my feet and race toward the next house's yard, hiding behind some bushes on their front porch.

I was surprised when I saw that the person opening the door was Iris. She looked around, wearing a purple sweater and green jeans. Iris!

I was about to run up to her and ask if I could sleepover (though now that I think back on it, it would be pretty creepy since I was obviously the one creeping on her porch).

But then I realized that she was smiling widely. Probably because her brother was ruffling her hair and teasing her as their mother called them for something I couldn't quite catch. She pushed him playfully inside and closed the door, not once glancing at my direction.

Oh.

I almost forgot it was still Thanksgiving. Life moved on.

I sat on the grass and waited for as long as I thought people were still at my Agatha's house. With what happened, I figured they'd left right after dinner.

"So do you like to just casually sit around on people's front porch during the holidays, or…"

My heart jumped at Castiel's sudden appearance breaking the quiet.

He was looking at me, on his pajama pants and a black sweater hanging from his frame. His hand was holding the side of the front door and his hair was an obvious mess.

I was honestly not even surprised anymore.

But I was sad. And I was already crying a bit before he showed up and when I saw him I wanted to stop but that only caused me to start crying even more. In a summary, I started crying uncontrollably in front of Castiel Hines's house at 9:40 at night.

He seemed alarmed. "Hey, now…" He closed his front door and stalked closer to me, hushing me along.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you…" He tried, hovering awkwardly over me as if he didn't really know how to comfort me. I could tell he wasn't used to this. And I was sorry I had just shown up at his house and started crying without a single explanation, but I didn't know how to stop.

Castiel said nothing for a while. He let me cry in peace, sitting beside me without saying a single word. He didn't stare at me as I did, which I greatly appreciated.

When my crying calmed and turned into mere shaky breaths, he spoke, "Having a rough time on the holiday season?" His voice was rough, low. He was looking away from me, at the road, as he asked the question.

"Yes," I murmured, picking at my skirts.

"I figured." He replied. A pause, then, "It doesn't really explain why you're crying on my front porch, but okay."

I laughed a little. There he was. I was starting to wonder where his little comments had gone.

"Sorry, I guess." I reply, wiping tears from my chin with my sweater sleeve. "I didn't know this was your house, your royal highness."

"Good. I don't like peasants meddling about on my most royal property." He smirked, propping himself on the elbows as he looked up at me.

I laid myself down next to him. Might as well kill some time here, I thought. And besides… I kind of liked spending time with him. A tad bit.

"Go on." He said right as my back hit the prickly grass.

I turned to him, confused. He was still gazing at the night sky, shrugged. Said:

"Tell me why you're upset. You've already woken me up. I might as well pretend to listen to your problems."

By now I could already tell that was his way of saying, "Why are you upset? Maybe I can help."

So I did. I told him pretty much everything, not censoring anything. I started by telling him about New York, my depression, my parents. And I finished by telling him about what happened this evening.

As I went dragging on, he had propped himself up and gazed at me telling the story with his brows furrowed. He didn't interrupt, not once. Not to say, "I'm so sorry," or "That sucks". He just listened, and I kind of liked that.

Once I was done, the silence came back – but only briefly. He lay back down and said, "I did find it kinda weird that you came right in the middle of October."

I sighed. "Yeah, well."

It was silent again for a while. I admit I almost fell asleep, right then and there with my hair tangled on the dried grass and Castiel right beside me. But then he stood up, dragging my attention back to him.

"I'm going back to bed," He announced, not quite looking me in the eyes.

"Okay," I replied.

He turned to leave. Right before he opened the front door, I said, "Thanks, Castiel. For real."

I was so tired I wasn't sure if I saw him hesitate before entering his house or if I just imagined it. But when he was gone, I walked back home. My relatives had left right after dinner like I anticipated, and Agatha was already in bed.