Chap 5

A dinner, in which an awkward conversation transpires.

"You didn't tell me there would be a hot British guy staying here!" As usual, Livia's whisper was louder than a typical whisper. Amy looked for the infamous Kabra smirk to be aimed in Livia's direction, but Ian seemed oblivious as he continued spooning gravy onto his mashed potatoes.

"I did tell you, remember?" Amy hissed back. "When we were upstairs, I told you that my cousin was visiting."

"Ah, you did," Livia said, wagging a finger. Amy was reminded so much of Fiske that she had to bite back a smile. "But you didn't tell me he was hot. You see, there's a difference between a visiting cousin and a hot visiting cousin."

Amy followed Livia's eyes to the subject of their conversation. Ian Kabra seemed very different from how she remembered him. Yes, the startling jet-black hair was still there and so were the amber eyes, but Ian's physique was remarkably changed. There was no more baby fat on his face; it was all straight, sharp lines. It gave him a hard, cold look that contrasted with the uncertainty of the boy Amy had encountered during the Clue Hunt. Five years ago, his body had been on the line between what was considered skinny and what was considered lean. Now, there was no doubt that it was the latter; his chest muscles were visible through his button-down shirt and his shoulders were broader.

"But I suppose it would be weird for you to call your own cousin hot," Livia went on, oblivious to Amy's thoughts.

"We're distant cousins," Amy said, breaking eye contact with Ian. "Technically, Ian and I are about as related as you and I are."

"Why is he here again?"

"He's studying American culture," Amy lied.

Livia's eyes sparkled. Amy mentally prepared herself. "We should offer to show him around Massachusetts."

Amy nearly spit out a mouthful of chicken. "Uh, no. First, I don't think Ian has so much time that we can show him the entire freaking state of Massachusetts—"

"Massachusetts is tiny," Livia dismissed with a wave. "But, fine, we'll show him around Attleboro and Boston. Your hometown and mine."

"There's nothing to see in Attleboro. You saw the place when we drove here. Downtown is literally made up of a few run-down stores that nobody goes to and a railroad station. And the rest of Attleboro is grass."

"Boston, then," Livia persisted. "It's only a half-hour drive away from Attleboro. I've lived there my whole life and you said you've been there a bunch of times too. C'mon, we'll be amazing tour guides. You can explain, like, all the historical tourist-y attraction stuff and I'll educate him on pop music and fast food and other American stuff. It'll be fun."

"I don't think anyone can call a day with you nattering in their ear 'fun.'"

"Oh, shut up. The poor guy is traveling by himself. I don't think he'd mind the company of the beautiful, smart, and witty Livia Tranc and the beautiful, smart, slightly-less-witty Amy Cahill."

Amy rolled her eyes and grappled for something that would make Livia discard this stupid idea. "There's a reason why Ian Kabra travels alone." Here she lowered her voice, as if spreading gossip, and tried to ignore the fact that she was badmouthing Ian behind his back. "He's not a very friendly person. In fact, he's a snob."

Livia looked interested and more than a little curious. "Yeah? What makes you say that?"

"His family is, like, rich. He grew up really spoiled and thinks he's above us 'peasants.'"

Livia snorted. "For real? He used that word?"

"Yup." The guilt increased. If Amy was honest, it wasn't Ian who had said those degrading things about her and Dan. Compared to his sister and the rest of his family, Ian had actually been fairly civil in the times they met.

"Arrogance just adds to his hotness," Livia was saying. Amy suppressed a groan. Once Livia had an idea, it was practically impossible to dissuade her from it.

"Either way, I don't think he really wants to see Massachusetts," she said, trying one last time.

"Uh, then why is he here? I thought you said he was learning about American culture?"

"Yeah, but the only reason why he's stopping in Attleboro is to—to catch up with the family. Fiske insisted that he stop by," Amy persisted. "The last time we saw him was, like, five years ago at…a family reunion."

Livia cast a purposeful glance at the others and raised an eyebrow. After brief introductions, the main conversation at the table had quickly died out and now everyone seemed to be wrapped up in their own thoughts. Nellie actually had earbuds on. "Great reunion. I can hear the riveting, animated conversation."

"My family isn't really the loud type," Amy admitted.

But Livia had given up any pretense of a whisper. "For god's sake, it's like we're at a funeral."

Fiske, who had been staring at a spot on the table for the past five minutes, dropped his fork in surprise at the sound of her voice. Livia found herself the recipient of many stares and raised eyebrows.

"Uh, just sayin'."

A startled laugh came from Amy. She met the eyes of Ian, who was looking mystified as if he had heard something familiar but couldn't quite place it. "Jonah," she mouthed to him with a smile. She saw the realization come on his face—Jonah Wizard had said nearly the exact same thing once, "Just sayin'" being the name of one of his songs—and the tug of his lips upward at the memory of their ridiculous cousin.

For a moment, the awkwardness subsided. The mention of Jonah had somehow connected them, just like the way they had been connected by the 39 Clues hunt and the fight against the Vespers.

"You're right, Livia," Fiske was saying. "I apologize. It's my job as host to keep up a conversation, and I have not been doing a very good job." He paused, struggling to find a topic they could all talk about. Amy knew that it wasn't easy. When other Cahills visited, Fiske usually talked about official Madrigal and Cahill business. But with a non-Cahill present at the table, Fiske was at a loss at how the conversation should proceed.

"So, Ian," Livia piped up, her inquisitive eyes resting on a certain British boy. "Amy told me you're here to study American culture."

If Ian was startled or appalled by the cover story Amy and Nellie had provided for him, he didn't show it. "Yes, I am. I was passing by Attleboro and Fiske was kind enough to let me stay for a few days before I continue with my travels."

"For more than just a few days, I hope," Fiske said. Livia elbowed Amy.

"I'm afraid that's not very likely," Ian said. "I'm already behind schedule in my travels."

Amy gave Livia an I-told-you-so look.

"But it's been a while since we've last seen each other." Fiske's eyes flickered to his niece. "Maybe you and Amy should catch up."

"There's not really anything to talk about," Amy protested, embarrassed. She snuck a peek at Ian, who was looking her way, and quickly turned her gaze back to her plate. "Nothing big or important has happened."

Nellie snorted. "Um, actually, I know something big and important that's happened in the past year." Amy gave her a questioning glance. "It starts with a C." At Amy's blank look, she gave a huff of exasperation. "College?"

"Oh, yeah. College is pretty great," Amy said, feeling a smile grow on her face. College had been like a separate reality away from the hectic life of a Cahill and the crazy Vespers. She could deal with term papers and exams, hyper-active dormmates, and cute guys.

"No kidding," Livia said sarcastically, and Amy felt her smile grow further. Even now she missed her messy dorm room, which she shared with the disorganized Livia, and the soft green grass of the turd field at Brown where she had spent many spring days sprawled upon while studying and reading.

"Livia and I go to Brown," Amy told Ian. "We both major in history."

"Quite an important and valuable subject," Fiske remarked, his eyes twinkling. "May I ask what made you choose it?"

Livia was the one who answered. "Personally, I love that all the stories are true, that every day we find another piece of the past and another ancient mystery is solved. And it's kind of an adventure to decipher all the ancient writings and relics. Amy and I debate a lot over interpretations."

The two girls shared a grin, both thinking about how quickly a light comment regarding the Vedic had quickly escalated into a heated argument just yesterday.

"We both want to be archaeologists too," Amy added. Just like my parents. She dared to look up at Fiske, who gazed back at her with visible sadness in his eyes.

"It's the perfect choice since we both love traveling," Livia said. "Amy's so lucky she's been to so many countries. I've barely been to two."

"Amy has travelled quite a bit for a young person," Fiske agreed. "We Cahills have always had a fondness for travelling and opening the eyes of the young to the world while they're still growing."

A snort came from Ian. When Amy turned to look at him, his face was impassive. "That's an understatement."

"So you're a frequent traveler too?" Livia said.

"I'd been to all of the countries in Europe by the time I was ten."

"Oh. Wow." Livia's eyes were wide. "I've always wanted to travel around the world. I haven't even been to Europe yet."

"Maybe we can plan a trip next summer," Amy said, her eyes sparkling.

"Oh, that'd be so fun! We'll have to visit Paris, of course—"

"The Eiffel Tower is overrated," Nellie interjected, pulling her earbuds out of her ears at the mention of her favorite city. "The Parisian cafes, on the other hand, don't get the recognition they deserve. The croissants, man, the croissants really get to me."

"And Venice sounds so lovely, as does London—"

"You won't like London," Ian said, his voice flat.

"Aren't you from there?" Livia asked.

Ian shrugged. "I didn't say I don't like it there. It's much colder there, though, and we don't take to foreigners that well. I've heard my fair share of Americans complain about the 'snotty Brits' and it's rather annoying. Trust me, you wouldn't like London."

There was an awkward pause.

"I want to see Asia too," Livia said, tactfully changing the subject. "I've never been farther east than, like, Massachusetts. I want to go to China, of course, and see the Great Wall…and I've heard Korea is so pretty—"

"It is," Amy, Nellie, Fiske said together. At the same time, Ian said, "It's alright."

There was a silence. "Oh, you've all been there?" Livia said, jealousy tingeing her voice. "Lucky."

Amy glanced at Ian. Korea had been one of the nicer places they'd visited during the 39 Clues hunt with its high mountain ranges, rolling hills, and luscious green fields. Amy had always felt most at peace in the countryside, directly interacting with Mother Nature, but she supposed a city-dweller like Ian wouldn't have been as impressed.

Nellie then excused herself to bring out the desserts and Fiske quickly stood up to help her. As they disappeared into the kitchen, Livia whispered into Amy's ear, "Are Nellie and Fiske married?"

Amy choked on her spinach. Livia whacked her several times on the back while Ian stared. "No! Gosh, Livia, no! They're, like, forty years apart."

"I just thought it was weird that they were your guardians together," Livia said. "Fiske is your uncle right? And Nellie was, what, some former baby-sitter?"

"Au pair," Amy corrected automatically. She racked her brains for an explanation that didn't involve a long, winded account of family history and couldn't find one. "It's complicated."

"Hmm." Livia sounded distracted. Amy's momentary relief at Livia's surprisingly docile response to her excuse faded when she realized that Livia was narrowing her eyes at Ian. The feeling of awkwardness had descended upon the three adolescents when the adults had left. Amy felt the same way she did whenever Livia decided a boy was cute and dragged Amy with her to approach him.

Only this time, it was worse because that boy was Ian Kabra.

"So, Ian, how has your stay in America been?" Livia started.

Ian continued cutting a sausage into pieces. "Well enough, thank you."

"What do you think about the culture?"

"It's alright," Ian said, raising a piece of sausage to his mouth.

"How long have you been in the U.S.?"

"A few months."

Ian's curt responses didn't faze Livia in the least. In fact, they seemed to make her bolder. "How long will you be staying in Massachusetts?"

Ian calmly chewed and swallowed before replying, "Like I said before, probably a few days, but it depends."

Livia jumped on his answer like a dog finding a scent. "On what?"

"Er," Ian said. His eyes flickered up from his plate and immediately found himself trapped under Livia's curious gaze. Quickly, he looked away—and this time, his eyes met with Amy's.

From the eye contact, Amy could read the panic that was masked on Ian's face. Unfortunately, as she herself didn't know exactly what Ian was seeking for from his stay in Cahill Mansion, she was unable to help him.

"You know, if you're in no particular hurry," Livia began.

"But I am," Ian insisted.

Livia challenged this answer with a raise of her eyebrows. "Oh, yeah? For what?"

"There are still many states that Ian hasn't travelled to yet," Amy said, cringing immediately after at the lameness of the excuse.

"And there's still plenty of time, hmm?" Livia retorted. "How much longer are you staying in the U.S., Ian?"

Ian shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, I'll probably be leaving soon."

Livia was momentarily surprised by this. "And heading back to England?"

"Most likely."

"But that's just in the near future, right?" Livia persisted. "If you just spare a day or so, Amy and I were just talking about how we'd love to give you a tour of Boston."

Before Amy could strangle her so-called friend, Nellie and Fiske came back in, with Fiske carrying a large pan under mittens.

"Clafouti for dessert," Nellie announced. "Prepare to be impressed. The recipe is a Limousin family secret that's been passed from generation to generation for a hundred years. I managed to get it from an old woman on a trip to Limoges—for a specific price, of course."

"It smells delicious," Ian said, who was thankful and more than a little relieved that the previous conversation was over. Nellie and Amy gaped at him.

"Wow, is that a genuine compliment, Kabra? No snark or fake niceties involved?" Nellie said.

Ian flushed, an adorable red shade coloring his cheeks.

Fiske was slightly more composed. "I told you you've really outdone yourself this time, my dear," he said to Nellie.

"You cooked it yourself?" Livia asked, surprised.

"I have a variety of talents," Nellie replied, setting the pan on the table.

Amy snorted. "Those so-called talents include temporarily deafening potential attackers just by singing."

Nellie gave her a threatening look. "Careful, or there'll be no second slice for you."

Amy was quiet after that.

Ten minutes afterwards, the pan was completely empty except for a few crumbs sticking onto the pan covering. Amy's stomach was filled with the warm, satisfied feeling of fullness. The company parted soon afterwards, with Amy leading Livia outside for a tour of the gardens while Fiske, Nellie, and Ian went discreetly upstairs.