32 | 𝐴 𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝐴𝑐𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

"What are you doing?" I pestered, staring at him.

He popped his circular piece of jewelry onto his lip and I'd almost forgotten he had a lip ring in the first place. "I don't know, I feel like wearing it today," he told me, glancing up to the taxi driver who drove down a suburban road.

"Are you nervous?" I wondered, looking up at him, avoiding my fingers that continuously knotted together. If anything, I was nervous.

He shook his head more rigidly. "Rhy, this is just like the last time we went out..." His chest was tight as he spoke. "Giada told us that this address would lead me to my biological aunt who's good at these types of things. She's in criminal justice for Christ sakes--"

"I know, but..." My voice trailed, and I didn't know why. There was so much on my mind at the moment and being that it was Christmas Eve didn't exactly help. "Happy Hanukkah day," I murmured under my breath.

He stifled a laugh. "Hanukkah ended December eighteenth."

"Fuck! You should've told me!" I responded, slapping his arm playfully with a grin. "I'm not Jewish, I don't know."

"Well, I'll make sure you know next time around," he assured. "And thanks, I needed a good laugh. I guess I am a little nervous--"

"I know that!" I chortled, inching closer against the backseat of the taxi to him. "It will be okay."

"Let's hope so," Victor promised, giving the taxi driver a tip before we were led out of the car. He shut the door behind me and the cab drove away with a grumbling noise following. It suddenly became really quiet. The silence was deafening while we stood before one of the periwinkle townhouses with an American and Pride flag blowing in the breeze. There were pictures drawn by what looked like kindergartners, nothing but colorful scribbles peering out of the windows.

Victor glanced at the address written on the piece of paper before looking up with an elongated sigh. "This must be it, but I didn't know she has kids."

"If she does have kids..." I started, "then they must be your cousins."

He looked at me with something exciting in his eyes. "If what you just said is true, that's pretty fucking cool." He bounded up the porch steps, his hand barely grazing the banister as I followed. My heart swelled with hope and every centimeter of anxiety I could muster.

After a few seconds passed, he raised his fist and knocked hastily against the surface. Not a minute later, a woman appeared between the doorway with an infant on her hip. Her golden brown hair messily scrunched into a messy bun and tired bags hung below her eyes.

She stammered in confusion, "hey, uhh--are you one of Odion's friends? He didn't say he was having people over--Odion!"

"No," Victor interjected shortly as the background sounds of cartoons and playful child screams filled our ears. I swore the sink was running and just when the noises got so overwhelming, the infant on her hip began to cry.

She hushed him, bouncing his body on her hip. "Oh, Julian, it's okay--" She returned back to us with her undivided attention as if what was going on behind her was white noise.

Victor cleared his throat, declaring, "I'm Federico's kid. My name's Victor Vislocky, and I know you may not know who I am but--"

Her mouth had parted open, and I was ready to catch the baby as her arms slowly loosened in shock and presumably, more confusion. "Honey!" she screamed into the house, not even startling the twin girls who were playing princesses in the living room.

A man jogged down the stairs wearing a business suit before quickly investigating the guests, or Victor and I. He took the child from the woman's arms as she bounced to Victor within seconds, engulfing him in a tight hug which he couldn't exactly refuse.

He looked at me over her shoulder, raising a brow as if to say 'help me' but I only shrugged in reply with a hopeful expression in assurance. The woman parted, her hands still remaining on his shoulders as she said, "I've been waiting for you."

♡♡♡

"So..." Victor's fingers played with the napkin mindlessly. "You knew about me this whole time." He squinted his eyes at her as the sun fell over their back patio.

"When Fedrico said he got a woman pregnant, he told my brother and I, but we wanted to be in your life," she pursued, leaning over the patio table intently. "And, if there's one thing I know about Ric it's that he doesn't--"

"Listen to anybody," Victor finished lowly. "Where is he now?"

"I couldn't tell you." She shuddered at the thought of him. "Last I'd seen him, it was when he came here drunk off his ass and demanded money. He was angry, shouting, throwing things, and turns out, he already asked my brother and sister."

"And then what?" Victor pressed, though he didn't seem that intrigued to find an answer, rather bored.

"He left, four years ago," she finished tiredly, hearing a distant kid crying their head off within the confinement of her home, but she ignored it wearily. "I wish I could help you find your brother, but I didn't even know about him."

"He never mentioned Valentino once?" Victor prided, his lips parted and chapped. "But you can still help me though, right?"

"Wait--" She silenced, holding up her hand. "You said he was how old?"

"Thirteen." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "He's gonna be fourteen soon."

She nodded her head, but bit her lip in contemplation. "That doesn't make sense. He would've told me if he visited your mom again, and... thirteen years ago? That year was my wedding I believe... Yeah, cause..." She rose a finger to the air and started methodically calculating. "We celebrated our wedding anniversary for ten years three years ago. Your father could've been with my husband and I."

"So?" Victor questioned a bit irritatingly. "San Francisco to New York City isn't that far--"

"Yeah, but Indonesia to New York City is." She paused and inquired, "when's his birthday?"

Victor scowled at her. "This is ridiculous. I'm asking you for help and you're jumping around the bush like it's some freaking game. Do you wanna help me or not?" he deadpanned, raising his voice in irritation.

She didn't have time to glance at the overlapping sun rays basking her lawn and eventually getting overshadowed by the clouds, she quickly looked to his eyes and said, "I am trying to help you, but this doesn't line up--"

"Are you're assuming that either my mom or I lied--"

"No," she exhaled, but felt as if she couldn't get a word in.

"Forget it," Victor gutted, shooting up from the patio chair and pivoting to me. "Azariah, get up, we're leaving," he demanded, not giving me much of a choice. The woman's soft attempts were ignored, but mine weren't.

"Victor, just listen to her--"

"Instead of helping me," Victor began tightly, "she's trying to figure out what exactly?" His voice became on edge, his eyes sharp on his Aunt Esta in her seat.

She squirmed trepidatiously, sighing, and entwining her hands on the table. "I'm just saying your story doesn't add up. If Valentino is my nephew, Fredrico would've had to be in the United States thirteen years ago and we weren't, we went to Italy as a family and then I got married in Indonesia all around from August to September."

"He was born in late April," Victor muttered. "But he is my biological brother, don't assume otherwise." He gritted his teeth as he spoke and before I knew what was happening, I was gazing at Victor and her like an intense game of tennis.

"I have proof if you need it--"

"Then show me this Goddamn proof!" he argued, curling his fists. Within minutes, we were seated on her gray sofa with lime green and turquoise throw pillows hoisted behind our backs. The kids were all upstairs and the only thing on the TV screen was a bright blue film flickering with distorted lines. Suddenly, Esta, raised the remote and prodded at the buttons till the screen flashed black, our reflections returned.

"What are you even trying to--" Victor was interrupted by a bombardeos voice that flooded through the speakers. The thick Italian accent heavy in his words, the excitement as the man with Victor's prominent features, held the camera to his face, a beer in one hand, the sight of an Island resort behind him with rich orange light bathing the shore.

He spoke some Italian words, then announced above the music, "To my sister's wedding! It is currently--" He stared down at his watch. "Almost midnight--"

Suddenly Victor looked down and in the corner of my eye, I saw he was looking at his identical watch, the very same one on his wrist. We faced the screen again as the man continued to say, "2005, nearly September--living good!"

Esta joined the background on the TV, popping up behind his bare shoulder as she threw up her arms and a white material robe cascaded the length. She screamed in excitement and before we could process anything, words flashed up on the screen and a clock started crazily spinning backwards, the picture of Victor's dad fading.

Back in real time, Esta held up the remote and stopped it. "This is my wedding video, we made it like a movie, or more-so like the Blair Witch Project." She laughed softly, but studied the expression on Victor's face. His lips were parted, nothing but the black band loosely wrapped on his bottom lip to make his pale complexion seem paler. He hunched over his knees, his hands clasped together while his leg bounced slightly, then ceased.

Esta leaned somewhat closer. "I'm sorry--"

"You fucking bitch, no you're not!" he snapped, leaping off the couch and opening the front door, slamming it shut violently. I could feel the walls tremble in the course of his shadow and a heavy set nausea returned to my stomach, clinging to my throat.For a second, I stilled, petrification washing over me, but I quickly apologized and swept out of the house after him.

The sunlight blinded me instantaneously with fluorescence then recovery warmth while I hurried past the awning of the house. He paced to the curb with his hands pressed to either side of his face.

"Victor!" I called, jogging down the lawn to him. "Vicky, she's only trying to help you--"

"No, no she's not! If anything, Giada could've messed up the address, or this bitch could be a fucking psychopath, we don't know--" he rambled nonsense, avoiding my face as he pivoted on his foot with each sharp turn. "She doesn't have any idea about time, about anything!"

"Victor, are you afraid to admit that there is even a possibility Valentino could be your half-brother?" I urged, cringing at my own words, but unfortunately, I was interrupted by his... everything.

He spun around, revealing something darker in his eyes, a menacing glare that shot down any chance of comfort I could give him. I shriveled under his towering stance and he wasn't the Victor I knew. He became every part of him that he's hidden from me.

"I don't even need you here! I could do all of this on my own! And this Sullivan thing, you think it's the end of the world!" He raised his voice and I continued to shrink smaller. "You are so naive and--" He groaned in frustration, driving his feverish hands through his hair. "You don't have a clue about what pain is, exhaustion, effort, or disappointment. You live in a fucking bubble!"

"Victor," I soothed, holding out my hands to him, but he turned away, then turned back, not having a second to glance at my expression. I defended, "look, I know you're hurting but he's still your---"

"Hurting?" He scoffed, his steps slowing. "That woman is avoiding any chance of helping me by saying how my brother might not even be related to me!"

"It's just half," I murmured.

"And what's even worse," he started, gritting his teeth and jabbing a finger at me. Suddenly appearing closer, scolding me like a child. "Is that you of all people would take a stranger's accusation over me. He's not my half brother."

Before I could open my mouth, he pivoted again and said, "we're taking the next flight out and you can forget about all of this."

My body became rigid. "Victor," I whimpered out, my breath quivering as lukewarm tears threatened to slip over my waterline. "You don't mean that?"

"I do." He shook his head and plucked out the phone from his denim jeans.

I hurried to his side again, pursing my chapped lips together in anticipation. "What are you doing?" I implored, my voice meek, straining and choking back the build up of tears in my mouth.

"I'm calling a taxi and we're going straight to the hotel and we're leaving--"

"Vicky--"

"Don't call me that. Just shut up and let me call somebody to come pick us up," he curtly replied, dialing a number and drawing the phone to his ear.

As he turned away, I caught a glimpse of a shine in his eyes. I knew he was mad and going through numerous different things, lies unraveling like undoing yarn in his palms, but I was going to wait for him to come back... he had to come back to me... eventually.

♡♡♡

"I'm thinking this looks pretty neat," Sullivan amped, gesturing to the TV as we displayed our presentation. The blue and salmon color theme with words about connections we've made in the movies we watched for our project.

"Yeah, it looks great," I murmured tightly, glancing down at his hand that appeared on my thigh.

"You don't look so good," he mused, laughing shortly and standing up. "Can I get you water?"

"Sure." My breath stuck in my throat and ever since Victor and I landed three days prior, I couldn't seem to breathe properly since. My mom said that it was probably the change in atmosphere, or my ears were still popping and clogged from the plane, but I knew it had something to do with the things I didn't say to her.

When Sullivan came back into the living room, he handed me a glass and asked, "are you coming to my party tonight?"

"Party?" I retorted, squinting my eyes.

"Yeah... it's New Years. Twenty-nineteen?" he reminded me with a nudge on my shoulder. "Don't tell me you forgot."

"No, I didn't," I soundlessly chuckled, looking down at my reflection in the glass.

I totally forgot.

"But that's exciting," I said, my eyes gazing down to the rug absently.

He tilted his chin down. "You're invited, y'know?" He laughed uncomfortably and shifted to sit closer. "Riyah, if something was wrong, you'd tell me, right?"

No... what am I even saying!? He's my crush. Sullivan Corbett! The golden blond hair and green eyes were enough for me to tell him my whole life story.

"Yeah," I pronounced confidently, "and I'm looking forward to your party."

"Good... do you know what I'm looking forward to?" he pressed, then lowered his eyes to my lips as I shook my head. He approached closer, his hand folding around my neck. He inched my face towards him.

My heart was up by my tongue again, repetitively synchronizing with my thoughts and all I could think about was that I wanted it to be over. Kissing Sullivan wasn't at all like how I thought kissing would be, but after being with Victor, I had hoped that it would be better.

Shit, I'm a player, aren't I?

When his lips went on mine, I felt a twinge of coldness run through me. His dry mouth parted mine open and then his tongue jabbed into my own, sliding up the inside of my cheek. His hand reappeared on my thigh and his nimble fingers tightened their grip.

He lowly growled and vibrated my body, but I was shocked until his hands scraped up my skirt. I leapt out from underneath him and he jolted in shock, displaying a brief question before I grabbed my water and threw the bottom up.

"Phew," I exhaled, "did someone mess with the thermostat because it is getting hot in here," I exasperated, fanning myself with my fingertips. Noticing how that sounded, I said, "I was hot before you kissed me."

I don't think that made it any better.

He rolled his eyes and outstretched his arm towards the remote. "Whatever. I was thinking we could watch a movie?" he offered, taking down our nearly completed presentation off his TV screen.

"Haven't we watched enough of those?" I reminded and he gave a few nods in agreement at the fact that we have watched a lot of movies since the start of the project. He nodded in agreement as he shut it off. "We could..." I started to suggest.

"Kiss some more," he teased, but for some reason, I was shaking my head before I could even process what I was declining.

For Christ sakes, Azariah, your crush just offered to kiss you more! But the only thing on my mind was Victor and I knew that I had to distract myself with Sullivan. It was the first time ever that I was hanging out with just him and I didn't have Victor's advice in my ear, so maybe that's just why he was on my mind.

"I think I should go home--" I quickly added, "to get ready for the party. I wanna look good."

He nodded and stood up. "I'll drive you home."

"Nope!" I beamed, hurling my backpack over my shoulder as it thudded against my spine. "I'll walk." To my surprise, he didn't disagree and walked me to the door. I stood up on my tippy toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. My heart felt warm and tender as I pulled away, seeing who exactly was standing before me. Yet something felt like it was missing, like this needle-sized hole wasn't filled.

I started to bounce happily down the extensive driveway past the awning of his house when I heard his voice holler to me, "consider this a second date!"

I turned around and smiled, nothing else.

x