18 | 𝑇𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒

"How'd it go?" Victor pressed, looking directly down at the papers on his desk whilst I laid on his bed.

"Amazing!" I breathed. "You won't believe it!" I shifted over on my stomach, the soles of my feet up at the ceiling, elbows matted to the bed and my head in my hands. "We shared a blanket and he put his arm around me."

"That's great. Did you make a move?" he asked, glancing up to me for a moment. Retreating to his papers in seconds.

"A move?" I repeated. "I mean, if getting him a glass of water is a move then I'm a pro."

"I mean, did you try and kiss him?" he questioned dumbly, now looking up and reclining back in his office chair with a pencil in-between his fingers as if it was a joint. His arms were crossed over his chest. He wore gray sweatpants and a black tank.

"If I tried and kissed him, I think I'd be telling you that," I muttered, swinging my legs around his bed to dangle off the edge. "If I tell you something, can you promise not to tell anyone?" I implored softly.

He quirked a brow and I knew what he was going to say before he even said it. He was becoming predictable. "We're not thirteen years old," he quipped.

My eyes fell to his floor, subtly scoping out his arms which were relaxed along his chest, the grooves gradually moving down to his wrist. I sighed heavily, picking up my head and stated, "I've never actually kissed anyone."

"For real?" he urged, then laughed.

"Stop," I declared with a smile. "It's not that unusual."

"Well," he started. "I'm always available for practice--"

"In your dreams, Mr. Vislocky," I teased, throwing him an eye roll. He was chuckling in his chair, shaking his head dismissively. "I don't know, but no one's ever really liked me."

He cleared his throat as if I was oblivious, removing an arm from his chest and gracefully lowering in the air, beckoning to his body. "I'm fucking attracted--"

A flare of redness lined my complexion. "You can say that about any girl," I remarked.

He shrugged, wheeling around and scribbling a few things after studying his laptop. "We can try this," he muttered. "I downloaded this app that contacts families of the same DNA, and the only one registered here that I know, is my grandmother."

"Great," I beamed, slipping off the bed and walking over to him. I hovered over his shoulder, observing the website to see the grandmothers' address. "Victor," I started lowly. "This woman lives in Montana."

"I know--" he started, "but, does that really matter? It's four hours away, that's nothing."

"Victor," I warned, but breathed sharply. I couldn't lie to my mom again, besides, she'd never let me go alone with Victor, even after she'd met him.

"Come on," he begged and I noticed something tapering within the yellow lines of his irises. It wasn't one of his usual playful, seductive, or mysterious glares, it was desperation, and I couldn't hide the fact that I wanted to help him, but everything within me told me that this was wrong, very wrong. He was the bad boy known for hooking up with girls and ghosting them days after.

"When in your life do you get to help a guy find his little brother?" he teased lightly, forcing a tight lipped grimace.

I shook my head, but my eyes were deepening the stare. "Don't guilt me," I warned with a faint grin. "Why can't you go without me?"

There was a long pause before he said anything. It was actually a while before he spoke again. He just stared into my eyes, then deviated his attention to the desk sorrowfully. "Really?" he asked me, almost disappointed. "I don't want to go alone, Rhy." He thrummed his fingernail along the lines of the wood in his desk as he murmured, "no, you're right. Don't go, it's fine. I shouldn't have put that on you."

"No--"

"No, it's fine," he assured, avoiding my eyes.

"Woah, wait!" I interrupted hastily, my hand reaching over and grabbing his jaw, forcing him to look at me the same way he'd done to me in Mrs. Allens and I knew that was a mistake, because a hunger flickered in his eyes when he looked at me the second I did that. My hand still remained molded to his jaw.

Damn, that thing could cut glass.

"Listen to me and stop assuming what I'm thinking," I asserted, "I'm going." My words then drifted into my usual lighter tone as I rambled, "first I have to work on some homework, then I have to do this club thing, plus I have to ask my mom--"

"Stop," his raspy tone ordered, his eyes trailing up and down my body. I wore the hoodie he gave me the first time we met and I realized how this could look, but we were only friends despite his 24/7 hard-on and his constant mindset of doing anything remotely sexual with me. He paused for a second, the tip of his tongue running over the underside of his top lip. "You're killing the mood."

I yanked my hand away, the warm sensation racing up my arm and to my brain. I started to get dizzy when I turned my back towards him.

Shit. Shit. Shit. What did I just do? Why did I do that? Why did he respond like that? What just happened? Fuck.

Before I could respond, he leaned forward out of his seat and tugged on my wrist, causing me to fly into him, landing on his lap. "Are you kidding me?" I yelped.

He snickered in my ear warmly. "You're gonna turn me on and just leave? What are you? A tease?" he joshed. His one hand clutched the small of my waist as the other rested on my thigh, a little too close than I would've liked. "Besides, you do need practice, don't you?"

Fuck, I felt it.

"No, playtime's over," I curtly responded, lifting myself up off his lap, trying to ignore the pulsing heat along my cheeks and nose. When I stood, I pivoted around, revealing the clear and blatant redness on my face. "I want to play Tea Party with your sister."

His eyes grew bored. "And there goes my boner," he joked, shaking his head and standing up. "We'll go visit this woman in Montana next weekend?" he suggested, fixing his sweatpants to adjust better.

"Woman?" I echoed. "I thought you said she was your grandmother?"

"She is, doesn't mean I ever met her in person," he defended. "She lives at a senior living center, one of those condos," he explained, walking over to his dresser and peeling his tank off his body. I stared mindlessly at every tiny hill of muscle along his toned, olive back.

He continued after tossing the tank into a laundry bin on the opposite corner. "She's my dads' mom. I didn't know anything about her up until now."

"What happened to your biological dad?" I intrusively questioned. "I mean, you know about my dad."

"And you also know that I'm adopted," he noted, popping his head up through the hole of his sweatshirt, the hoodie cupping his black hair. He glanced over his shoulder, correcting the fabric along his body with the playful smirk on his lips. "Let's take this one day at a time, shall we?"

I nodded understandingly, grinning all the while. "On one condition," I started.

He released a series of groans. "What now?"

"I need socks," I announced. "So... please?" The word hung on my tongue, raising in pitch. I watched as he rolled his eyes and spun back around to his dresser, grappling a pair of black socks and projecting it into the air which I caught successfully.

"You look more like my girlfriend than anything." A scowl formed on his expression. "Hold the fuck up, those are my sweatpants too!"

I looked down while slipping off my flip-flops and lodging my foot into the sock. "Oh," I sarcastically mentioned, gazing up at him. "Would you look at that? What can I say, your clothes are so comfortable!"

He arched a brow, shaking his head as if he was trying to shake away the pent up retorts, but he looked playful all the while. "You sure you're not my girlfriend? Totally forgot about Corbett--"

"Well," I began matter of factly. "If he gave me his clothes, I'd replace yours, but as of right now, I'm wearing your clothes," I defined, "also, you don't even date."

"Neither does Corbett!" he protested, causing a scoff to choke up my throat.

"He did."

"Oh, really?" he egged on. "When?"

I defended, returning to a standing position with socks on, "in eighth grade!"

"God help us all," he muttered, pointing to the door. "Go," he deadpanned with a smile. But as I progressed to the door, he cut in front of me, twisting the handle and allowing me to enter through the mini hallway.

I met eyes with someone in the kitchen, cooking up some food. He was wearing a green shirt and had a balding head of hair. "Hey, guys," he called over the sounds of a sizzling pan. "Azariah, you staying for dinner?"

"Is that an invite?" I pressed, rocking on the soles of my feet.

He stifled a few laughs, looking up from the counter to me and nodded. "Of course, I hope you eat steak, asparagus, and mash potatoes, because that's what we're having."

"Sounds great, Mr.." My voice trailed as my eyes quickly snapped to Victor.

He mumbled under his breath, "Leehman."

"Mr. Leehman," I concluded with a bright smile, ignoring the slight distaste in Victors' eyes. When the guy looked up, he shook his head, waving his hand in a manner that brushed it off.

"Please, call me Mack," he introduced.

"And you can call me Riyah," I added.

"Well, we're gonna go," Victor interrupted, slinging an arm over my shoulders, his hand gripping my bicep as he led me to the basement door, twisting the handle and gently nudging me ahead of him. I scurried down the steps rhythmically.

I heard soft music play through the speakers instantly. I surveyed the u-shaped basement, a rectangle room before me with two squares on either side of the staircase. The walls were decorated in baby pink and green, the carpet ivory and laying over the floors. On the walls were posters and a princess castle painted over one of the bigger walls.

Barbie houses littered the ground, as well as dolls and everything a kid could dream of. I felt like a kid again, seeing the radiant colors.

I glanced to my right over the banister, the section was blocked off by a gate, the maroon walls and mahogany colors darker then the rectangular space belonging to Cambria, and of course, there were bar stools, a mini TV, and a game of pool. Alongside the liquor cabinets was a 'man cave' sign and a few picture frames of a man and woman.

On the opposite side of the stairs was an art gallery, also blocked off with a gate.

"What is this place?" I asked in awe.

"The basement?" he answered perplexingly, jogging down the steps and passing me.

Cambria spun around from her seat at a small child-sized white table with a pink checkered tablecloth and tea set atop it. "Reeya!" she exclaimed, leaping up from her seat, revealing her pink princess dress. She immediately embraced my waist in a hug.

I placed my hands on her shoulder blades. "Hey! I missed you!"

"I missed you too!" She jogged to the table, introducing the two dolls in one white chair. "This is Rebecca and this is Sally."

"Nice meeting you guys," I introduced, approaching the table and removing the empty white chairs and seating myself.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked excitedly. I nodded and she reached for the teacup in the center and held the lid to keep it sealed. She grabbed a tiny plate and put a pint sized cup on the surface. She poured the water out of the teacup and said, "it's fresh."

"I'm glad, I have a strict diet of fresh water," I explained, receiving a wave of her giggles as she placed the teacup back down.

"Vic! Join us!" she called.

I craned my neck and nodded, but he was on his phone, the hoodie up over his head, a black quiff poking out. He wore all black and his lip ring reflected a bit of the light from the ceiling. He nodded, but spoke as if he was too occupied on his phone. "Want me to turn the fairy lights on?" he asked.

"Yes!" she yelled out with a smile, the giddiest look along her face. "This is so much fun!"

I chuckled along as suddenly he flicked the light switch off and the room went dark, then the lights along the ceiling lit up. Her playroom glistened like icicles, tapering the length of the wall. The TV screen lit up with the music channel. Taylor Swift playing through the speakers. The room was lit in such a magical fairy glow.

Woah... this is beautiful.

My childish fantasies sparked alive at the sight of it all.

A night light beside her in the shape of a purple mermaid lit up as well. She stood up from her seat and started to walk towards the tiny kitchen she had. She grabbed Velcro plastic vegetables and placed them on a fake platter.

"Vicky," I called, since he was still standing absentmindedly in the center of the room with his head down at his phone.

"Coming," he grumbled under his breath, finishing what looked like a text. He sighed in retreat, shoving his phone into his sweatshirt pocket and seating himself at the head of the table opposite from Cambria.

"You like purple?" I questioned, gesturing to the few purple lights around the room.

"Yes!" she yelled out again, jumping up and down. "It's my favorite color! What's yours?"

"I don't like purple, but it's so pretty in here," I noted, then cocked my head. "I believe my favorite color is green or blue, like..." My voice trailed in thought.

"Aqua?" she inquired.

"Yeah, aqua," I confirmed, nodding my head and glancing over to Victor who smiled between the two of us. "What's your favorite color, Vicky?"

He raised a brow, but nonetheless, said, "probably red, or something."

"Something?" I echoed. "Where's the enthusiasm?"

"Agreed!" Cambria deadpanned, "you guys are not even dressed properly!" She ran to the tiny house in the corner of the room and opened the red door. She crouched down and entered, though she had to be hunched over to fit, she came back out within seconds, holding a bunch of fabrics.

I exchanged a nervous look with Vicky who knew exactly what was happening. Cambria handed a black cape and pirate hat to Victor who took it without complaint. Then she handed me a tiara and a shawl.

"Thank you!" I beamed as she placed it over my shoulders. I gazed at Victor whose hoodie was replaced by a pirate's hat and the Velcro of a cape was clipped to his Adam's apple.

He rolled his eyes and pointed a finger in my direction. "You say not one word."

I pretended to zip my mouth close with the tip of my finger while I stifled back the laughter that was dying to choke up my throat. The next song that came through the speakers was one that belonged to a princess movie.

I quickly snagged my phone from my pocket of his sweatpants that I was wearing and shot a picture, causing him to glare at me.

"You delete that right now."

I giggled lightly. "Nope."

"Bria! Get her!" he playfully egged on.

She shook her head, sipping her tiny teacup. "No, I like Reeya better than you," she remarked, causing his jaw to clamber to the ground.

"Rude! I'll tell your dad--"

"No!" she exclaimed in a fit of laughter as he suddenly leapt up, his cape flying behind him, lunging towards me as I quickly sprinted to the opposite side of the room.

"Bria!" I exclaimed as a cry for help.

"I got you!" she charged, grabbing onto a pillow on the ground and chasing after her brother who was chasing me.

"Ahh!" I screamed in a grin as he neared, I dove around the tiny kitchen before tumbling onto the ground. Bria started whacking Victor with the pillow as he threw his legs over my waist, straddling me and beginning to tickle me. I crunched my stomach, my scalp scraping against the ivory carpet. Dying of laughter, my pleas for Bria to save me disappearing into chuckles.

Bria propelled a pillow into his chest and gently pushed him off me. He fell to the ground with a smile as Bria grabbed my hand.

I held tightly as she ran to the opposite side of the room where the small house was. She opened the door, hurrying me inside. I dove in, clothes scattering the floors. I really had to scrunch my body in a sitting position cause I was like a giant.

She squirmed in beside me, holding the door closed as he knocked creepily from the other side.

"You're gonna have to come out for dinner eventually," he warned.

"I'm telling dad that you're holding us hostage!" Bria declared with triumph, tapping my arm excitedly. "I want to see the picture."

I cheekily smiled, pulling out my phone and showing her the picture of him smiling at the head of the table wearing his pirates' costume which Bria found hilarious while I found it ridiculously adorable.

"I hate you two," Victor grunted from the front of the 'house'. "At least lemme come in?"

"Do we trust him?" Bria questioned.

I thought long and hard and wondered what he was thinking as we waited. "Yes, I trust him."

"That's your first mistake," she teased, and though I laughed, I knew deep down, it was more than a simple question whether we should open the door.

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