“Goodnight, Lexi.”
Chapter 3
Being clumsy was never considered a merit throughout my entire being. It never had a good timing like we actually see in the movies like trying to distract my mom from entering my brother’s room to check up on him when I knew he was at our school Barbie’s party and wasn’t going to return home until one am or losing my balance and crashing into a mysterious prince.
No.
In fact, it was always the opposite way around. My clumsiness always had the worst timings ever and had no effect on my life other than embarrassing me or getting me into trouble, so you can imagine the horror I felt when my feet slipped on the floor in the corridor and the mug with its contents went flying from my hands, shattering into a hundred miniscule pieces as it made contact with the ceramic, white floor.
It took less than 3 seconds- literally- for the entire house lights to be turned on. Both of my parents came out of their rooms in a rush; my dad holding a baseball bat in his hand while my mom was clutching fearfully onto him from his back with a hand, while wiping her exhausted eyes with the other, and Trevor rushed out of his room a second later with his eyebrows raised mockingly at the mess I made.
Once my dad saw it was just me, he places the baseball bat aside and lends me a hand to pull me up. “Are you okay, Evie?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Once my mom grasped on the fact that it’s just me, she hurried aside to help me, while my brother woke up ‘Miranda’ –our housemaid- by calling out her name and asked her if she could clean this mess.
“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” My mom asks as she inspects both my hands and feet, checking that no glass pieces managed to pierce my skin.
“I’m fine mom. You don’t have to always worry like that.” I shake my head, chuckling lightly as I remember how she snuck into my room to sleep beside me this one time when I told her I had a headache.
“You may be twenty four, young lady; you may have just graduated your college a couple of months ago, and you may be all grown up by now, but you’re still my daughter. How can you tell me not to worry about you, and what the hell were you doing? Why are you not asleep yet? It is a few minutes past midnight for God’s sake! Don’t waste your beauty sleep just like that; you need all what you can get before your wedding,” my mom rambles, and they all look at me expectedly as she waits for me to answer.
“Well?” My dad crosses his arms over his chest.
My mind is suddenly aware of the reason of why I’m in fact not yet in bed, so I cross my arms over my chest and look at Trevor accusingly as I ask, “Well, why don’t you share with us the reason why you were awake Trevor?”
The thought that I’ve been listening to his conversation all along suddenly seems to drop on Trevor’s mind, causing his eyes widen a tiny fraction or so before acting all confused to what the hell I was insinuating.
“Well, what was I doing, Evangeline?” He eyes me warily, and even though he was trying to act all cool on the outside, I definitely caught the fear swimming in his eyes. Fear of what I heard.
Fear of what I know, and the funny thing is I’m all clueless.
“Since when do you talk to Lexi? Why the hell were you yelling at her, asking her to keep a distance from me? Why would you tell her to avoid me, and how the hell do you know Evelyn and Adam?” I blurt out in livid bloody anger at the act he is trying to pull in front of our parents who were eyeing him weirdly once I claimed that he was awake as well.
I didn’t think that such simple questions could have my parents looking like they are very much about to lose conscious since it wasn’t even them I was questioning in the first place. My mom was covering her face with her hands, and I swear I saw her wipe a few unconscious tears that streamed down her face, while my dad looked at me in horror.
Their facial expressions caused me nothing but more and more bewilderment and a little bit of worry because they didn’t just look as if hearing this question was like pouring a bucket full of ice on them, their expressions were a combination of hatred and extreme fear. Fear as in what you would feel if you were all alone and saw a bloody ragged hand break through the graveyard into the air above the ground at midnight under a full moon.
My brother, though, reacted completely unaffected as he maintained an extremely cool facade like he was expecting something like this to happen, thus he ushered my parents to let him handle this with his hands, and that mere action caused nothing but break my heart even more than it already is. What were they hiding from me?
What are they so afraid of me finding out?
A strong pang of achiness overwhelmed my chest that caused a burning sensation to not only affect me physically but mentally. My mental state now matches one who’s just been clearly lied to because this- this just hurts: knowing that your parents and brother- the ones who are closest to you- are hiding something from you.
“Let me ask you
