Chapter 6 Family time

I stopped answering him completely.

I ghosted him.

It's childish I know and I don't have the right to be mad at him but...Still, I don't belong in his world.

His messages came in and I let them sit there, unread, one after another, until the little number on my screen got too many.

So I danced to avoid thinking about him.

The studio was the only place where I can be myself, dancing is my point of life. I got there at six every morning, before the other girls, and stayed until my legs shook. Pliés, turns, the same combination over and over until my mind went quiet. Nobody asked me anything in there. The music didn't need an answer.

Again, I told myself every time I stumbled. Again.

On the third day, Jolie leaned in the doorway with two coffees and a look of accusation.

"You're avoiding him," she said.

I kept turning.

"Isa. He asked me if you were okay. Twice."

I stopped mid-spin, pressed my palms against my thighs, and signed, Don't.

"I'm not saying anything." She held out a cup. "I'm only saying you're litteraly on edge for someone who claims that she's fine."

I took the coffee and didn't argue, because she was right.

Jace's text came that Thursday.

Jace*: Dinner tonight. Dante's, by campus. Bring Jolie. I'm paying.*

I stared at it. My brother never invited me anywhere. He checked on me, he left groceries at my door when he's worried about me.

But a dinner, with a time and a place?

Isa*: Why?*

Jace*: Can't I want to see my sister?*

I read it twice. Then I typed ok, because it seems cringe and supicious but I still miss my brother.

Jolie squealed when I told her. "Free food. Say yes before he changes his mind."

I already had.

Dante's was small and warm, with checkered tablecloths and candles stuck in old wine bottles. It smelled like garlic and bread and something spicy.

Jace was already at a round table in the back, and he stood when he saw us.

"There she is." He hugged me hard, the way he always did, like he was making sure I was real. "You look tired."

Thanks, I signed.

"I mean it nicely." He grinned and pulled out my chair. Jolie slid in beside me, and I realized there were five place settings.

Five.

I looked at Jace. He was suddenly very interested in the menu.

"Who else is coming?"

I didn't have to ask out loud. Jace read the question in my mind.

Before he could answer, the door opened and there's a sudden change of the air.

My whole body went still.

Aren stood in the doorway in a dark jacket, snow melting in his hair. He scanned the room, and his eyes found our table, and then found me.

I forgot how to breathe for a moment.

"Hey, man." Jace lifted a hand, and then turned to me with a frown."I didn't know why you insisted on coming here, bro. It's family time."

I blinked.

He insisted?

Aren crossed the room and stopped beside the table.

He looked straight at me.

Like he was analyzing me, I feel his eyes scanning my eyes, my nose, my...mouth like he was trying to memorizing me.

And seeing him again like that, It strike to me that I missed him, not being able to see him or talk to him for three days, was literally affecting me.

My fingers curled around the edge of the tablecloth.

Don't look at him. Don't.

Too late I couldn't help but looking at him.

His gaze held mine for a long moment. Then one corner of his mouth lifted.

"I'm family too," he said.

He said it lightly, like a joke but my heart kept beating so fast that I could hear it in my ears.

Jace laughed and shoved a chair out with his foot. "Sure, whatever. Sit, idiot."

But Aren wasn't looking at Jace anymore. And the way he said family wasn't light at all.

Jolie kicked me under the table.

I kicked her back, harder.

Aren sat down across from me, close enough that our knees almost touched beneath the table. He picked up his menu nonchalantly.

"You haven't been answering me," he said, quietly enough that only I could hear it, while Jace and Jolie argued over appetizers.

I stared at the tablecloth.

"It's okay," he said. "I just wanted you to know I noticed."

My throat tightened. I reached for my phone, and for a second I let myself believe I could type something honest. Something like I saw you were happy with her.

My thumbs hovered but nothing came.

Under the table, something nudged my shoe. It was only the edge of his sneakers, as if he were asking permission.

I didn't move away.

I didn't move closer either.

I just sat there with my heart hammering, listening to my brother laugh and Jolie argue, and thought: This is dangerous.

Aren turned a page of his menu and said, still not looking at me, "They have the pasta you like."

My head snapped up.

I had never told him I liked pasta.

His mouth curved, a soft and a little smug. "Jolie told me."

I shot her a glare. She smiled sweetly into her glass.

And across the table, Jace finally looked up from the menu, looked at Aren, looked at me, and went quiet.