Mismatched Compatibility (4)

Ethan:

Damn, I didn’t realize how much I missed my hometown.

I laughed suddenly, realizing how sentimental I was being. I shook my head at my silliness. My free hand flew up to my face, running it through my hair.

This was probably because of my lack of sleep.

As soon I entered the threshold, childhood memories came crashing back into my mind. I guessed I really couldn't help but feel bit mushy about my coming back home. Besides, it had been a while since I had been here.

The high ceiling where there was a crystal chandelier reminded me of the time I tried to jump from the railing of the upper floor to that same chandelier in order for me to dangle on it like a monkey.

I was nine years old then.

Laughing to myself, I walked to my right into the living room where the fireplace was. The room was pretty big compared to an ordinary house's one. There was at least two big sofas, four armchairs, and three window couches. And by the west wall was the family trophy case – most of it were mine.

I checked if there was anybody home. But as always, there was no one but me.

I went back to the center hall, and straight to the music area. It was kind of like the second living room – with only a big couch and two armchairs. But this time, there was a piano at the corner of the room. There was also a wide ceiling to floor window that lead to the garden outside.

Again, not a living soul.

I ran a hand through my head.

It wasn't really surprising. I was actually used to my parents not being at home. They never were – too busy mingling with their business partners and clients to spend time with their only son.

Not that I minded much. Like I said, I was used to it. No worries at all. Besides, I basically got to do and have whatever I wanted. So I didn't have a right to sulk like a whining forsaken child.

Turning around, I decided to go to my room. As I climbed the round staircase that touched the wall dividing the center hall from the living room, I looked at the pictures that hung at the side.

The photos were all very formal and properly aligned. Of course, my mom hired a professional photographer for most of them.

There was a picture of the three of us, when I was only three. Another one when I about seven years old, with all of our relatives. The next one was during my puberty, around thirteen. There was a picture of me when I was in my Football uniform in Middle School, beside it was a picture of me in my Basketball uniform in high school – in between them was a picture of me in my Baseball uniform during one summer in my teenage years.

Then, there was when I graduated from high school. And the last photo was only recently, during my college graduation in Georgetown.

There were a few more self-portraits, but I couldn't wait to get to my room and chill while I waited for Mom and Dad to get back from wherever the heck they were.

When I reached the second floor, I turned right and passed several guest rooms before I reached my room at the end of the hall. The whole of third floor – basically, it was the attic but the space was too large that 'attic' didn't cover it – contained the master's bedroom.

A wide grin appeared on my face when my eyes landed on the door that lead to my bedroom. It used to have stickers that said, “Stay Out!”, “No Parents Allowed”, “Danger Ahead”, and “Do Not Disturb”. But now, it was bare white.

I'd bet anything Mom ordered someone to remove those. She had always scolded me for tainting her 'clean household'. But whenever she tried to remove it when I was in high school, I would add more around the house. Eventually, she realized that I would never stop. So she let it go.

She probably thought that since I left for college, it'd be okay for her to take it off. And surprisingly enough, I didn't mind anymore.

I think I only did it then to piss her off. I sure had a laugh whenever she went into hysterics about it. And it wasn't like she could ground me because I'd only rebel and do something worse. Dad, on the other hand, tolerated me.

I shook my head, entertained at the memory, as I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

“Ah,” I sighed, stepping inside and closing the door behind me.

Everything was still in place. The only thing that weirded me out was the cleanliness of the room. Other than that, it was my same old long and large room.

Ha. Long and large. (Sexual innuendo right there.)

The end of the room was arched. So it was like a half-oblong, half-rectangle bedroom. But if you included the bathroom, it was L-shaped backwards.

I dropped my bags beside the computer desk that took up the entire corner of the room beside the door. To my right side, I saw that the huge cork board that was filled with pictures, past concert tickets, doodles, and other things wasn't removed.

Thank God.

I mean, not many people knew. But I liked to keep things that reminded me of epic events I've been in.

Most of the photos had me, Aaron, and Luke in it. Some were me and Annabelle as we grew up. There were a number of pictures with me at a party with the other guys from the Basketball team.

I grinned. I sure as hell had a lot of fun in high school.

I didn't fail to notice several recently added pictures of me and my brothers from the Frat. I smirked when I saw the Frat house behind one of the photos. I was pretty proud of it because it was one of the biggest houses on campus.

My eyes wandered around the room. At least, my mom didn't change the cozy blue color of the wall when she decorated the house eight months ago. I would've freaked if she made it white or something.

And then, at the other side of the room, over the head of my bed, across the fifty-four inch Plasma TV, right by the side of the recliner that was next to the window that overlooked the pool, I noticed something that I haven't touched for ages.

My guitar.

Before I even realized it, I was taking steps towards it. I sat on the recliner and picked up the acoustic guitar. As soon as I held it, my fingers strummed lightly on the strings.

I had an electric guitar in the basement, which should really be called the Room of Entertainment because it had everything. But this acoustic one was the one I used as I learned to play when I was in third grade, when I got into music.

Again, not that many people knew that. Only Annabelle, Luke, Alyson, and Dakota knew . . . My parents also . . . Sam and Nigel knew, too. They were practically my party buddies whenever Luke and Aaron couldn't make it, so I trusted them with my balls. None of my frat brothers knew, though.

Aaron actually asked me to teach him how to play in senior year. He didn't elaborate on it, but it was hell obvious that he serenaded Dakota that time.

As for me, no way would I do that fucking cheesy crap.

Yeah, I liked to play. It didn't mean I was a shitty romantic.

“Ethan, darling?”

My head snapped up at the sound of heels clip-clapping the wooden floor outside the hall. I knew that sound so well that the hair at the back of my neck stood up in anticipation for the crazy woman I considered my mother.

I started counting under my breath, as I carefully put my guitar back to its former place.

“Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.”

On cue, my bedroom door opened.

“Darling?” asked a soft female voice.

Her voice was so soothing, like it was whenever she wasn't worried, stressed, or irritated. Let's put hysterical in that category, too.

“Hey, Mom,” I greeted her, standing up and walking over to her. When I was near enough, I leaned closer and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“How was your flight?”

She was as beautiful as ever. It was safe to say that she looked a whole lot like Nicole Kidman, without the surgical modifications on her face. I mean, my mom was high maintenance and all. But she preferred her beauty to stay natural.

“Dull,” I answered, shrugging.

“Oh, my little boy!” she cried, pulling me into a hug.

I couldn't help but smile and hug her back. I would let her get all mushy on me for now. Just for now.

“Do I look little, Mom?”

“No,” she replied, pulling back to have a good look at me from head to toe. “You're a man,” she added, smiling gracefully.

I winced.

I honestly don't know if I should take that as a good thing or a bad thing. Being referred to a man sounds too . . . I don't know – adult-ish? I'm not exactly ready to be a responsible working citizen of America yet.

“Okay, enough with the cliché mother-son moment,” I snorted. “It doesn't really suit us, you know.”

She pulled up her chin. One of her hands was on her hip, as she gazed at me with those intimidating blue eyes. Her aura emanated strong will power mixed with undeniable charismatic elegance.

Yep, that was my mother. She wouldn't be Cher Alexandria Beaumont-Tyler if she didn't exhibit class. Dad was more of the rags-to-riches kind of guy, unlike my mom who was born like that Daniella Howard brat.

“Ethan Xavier Tyler,” she said seriously, like the word itself was a scold.

I grimaced, hearing my full name being said out loud. I was pretty successful on keeping that tiny detail a secret my whole life.

She stared at me for a few more moments before rolling her eyes.

“Yes, you're quite right. It doesn't hurt to try, though,” she whispered, mildly shrugging a shoulder. “By the way, one of your father's new clients will be joining us for supper.” She stopped talking to look at me from head to toe.

I smiled crookedly, already knowing what she was going to say. So I nodded and finished for her, “Yeah, Mom. I'll make myself look presentable enough for the guests to be impressed.”

This wasn't new to me. Dad was a big time lawyer and he often invited clients to our house to impress them, also to make them feel like they were part of the family. It brought more trust that way. But more often that not, they usually interacted outside the house and go on business trips.

My dear mother smirked. “Good.”

With that, she turned around and headed out. She halted when she reached the door, looking at me over her shoulder. I could swear I saw a small smile form her lips.

“I'm pleased to have you back home, darling.”

And then, she left – just like that. She didn't even wait for me to respond because she liked having the last say.

I chuckled quietly. “Nothing has changed,” I murmured, having another look around my room. When I was satisfied, I grabbed my bags from the floor and headed to the bathroom.

Time to prep myself to what I was expecting to be an overly boring night . . . not really knowing that I spoke too soon.

Kill me now.

I did nothing but smile and nod all night. Too many times, I tried to disappear or make a run for it. But Dad kept his firm grip on my shoulder. I mean, I didn't blame him. I get that he was proud of me, so he was showing me off.

But man, my eyes were drooping in fcking boredom.

The dinner was already over, but now we moved on outside by the swimming pool to mingle or whatever the crap they think they were trying to accomplish.

Out of the blue, the doorbell rung. My ears perked up at the opportunity to escape. I swiftly excused myself and went to the front door.

I got the shock of my life as soon as I laid my eyes on the person who rang the doorbell. I wasn't expecting to see her for the rest of my life. But there she was, standing on my doorsteps like a freaking goddess or something.

She looked a little haggard, though. It looked as if she was having the worst day of her life. But gorgeous, nonetheless. If it wasn't for her spoiled personality, I would've jumped on her then and there.

“Finally,” Daniella sighed in relief.

Then, she made a move to enter the house. I was too shocked that she managed to pass through the doorway.

“Whoa, whoa,” I quickly said, blocking her way before she could enter more into the house. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“To sleep,” she breathed out, sounding completely drained. “I’m exhausted. Can you please just move aside and lead me to my room?”

Was she kidding me? After all the irritating things she did?

“Fck no,” I said indignantly. “Get out.”

“I need a place to stay,” she whined. “For some miraculous reason, there are no available rooms in the hotels near the area.”

The reason to that was probably because of Aaron and Dakota's upcoming wedding. As far as I've heard, Dakota got a big family on her mother's side. Then again, that didn't make any sense because the wedding wasn't until the end of next week.

Anyhow, there were only two hotels around town.

I wonder . . .

“Have you tried going to the motel?”

She visibly winced. “Yes, I tried to,” she admitted, her shoulders slumping. “But it's so dirty. And the smell, my goodness. I even saw a condom on the floor.” One of her hands flew up to cover her mouth, as she made a little gagging sound. “I'm sorry, I just can't stand it there,” she added, shaking her head.

Huh. Well, it must have been hard for her to come here. She'd have to swallow her humungous pride to do so.

“Don't be such a girly girl,” I told her harshly. I haven't forgotten my frustration on her quite yet. “Suck it up, babe. 'Cause you ain't staying here.”

“That's easy for you to say. You must be used to that kind of place.”

“Maybe I am,” I replied nonchalantly.

“Ugh,” she groaned, scrunching up her nose. “You never fail to disgust me.”

“Do you think I fcking care?”

She vaguely whimpered. “Please stop swearing. Look, I'll pay for the room I'll be occupying if I have to. Just let me in,” she added in a tone that voiced out authority.

Sucks for you, missy. 'Cause I'm used to disregarding authority.

But her tone wasn't what pissed me off the most. No, it wasn't that. It was the fact that she thought I'd give in for money. Fck, my family was loaded. I didn't need to work to get whatever the shit I wanted. Did she actually think I'd want more than I had now? Who the hell did she think she was?

Oh, she just crossed the line.

“Do I look like a fcking beggar to you?” I demanded, my voice getting dangerously loud and cold. “And I will fcking swear whenever I fcking want because this is my fcking house.”

Instead of being scared of me and looking away like I expected she would, she held her ground and looked me straight in the eyes.

“Fine, then,” she said tonelessly, looking very stubborn.

I laughed humorlessly. “That's right, princess. You can't tell me what to do. I, on the other hand, can tell you to leave.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by another voice.

“Ethan?”

Both of our heads glanced at the direction of the voice. It came from the music area. It wouldn't be long before my mother joined our happy conversation.

“Introduce me as your girlfriend,” Daniella suddenly said.

My head whipped around her.

“What?” I asked incredulously.

“Come on, Ethan,” she persuaded. “It'll be easier for you to explain if you tell them that I'm your girlfriend. And you said so yourself that you don't like complicated matters.”

“That's right,” I agreed. “That's why I could just force you to leave and tell my mother that you're just someone who's on the wrong house.”

“If you do that, I'll just tell her that you're lying and that we really do know each other – you're just too shy to introduce me.” She shrugged and added, “I'm quite the actress, if you must know.”

I gritted my teeth.

She was right, she could pull off the angel act and make me look like the evil villain – not that I cared if I was the bad guy here. But my ears would bleed for fcking days from my mother's nags if ever that happened.

“Wouldn't you want your parents to be proud that you finally found a proper-mannered girl to commit to?” said Daniella.

“Proper-mannered, my ass,” I muttered, low enough that she couldn't hear.

“For what it's worth, it will only be a pretend.”

Like that'll make me change my mind, I thought.

“ Just think about it, all right?”

Right, I got about two seconds to think about it before my mom – Shit, I could already hear the tap of her heels coming nearer and nearer.

“Who was at the door, darling? Your father is looking for yo – Oh.”

I turned to look at Mom. Her right brow lifted up as her eyes landed on Daniella. They trailed down from her head to toe, much like what she did to me earlier – only this time, more critical.

“Good evening, ma'am.” Daniella smiled at my mother. “I'm very sorry to intrude your dinner.”

“Who's your . . . acquaintance, Ethan?” she asked me, carefully polite. Her eyes were still on Daniella.

I noticed the corner of her lips turn up in a barely-there smile. That only meant that she approved of whatever she was criticizing about Daniella.

She slowly removed her eyes from the blonde girl by my side to look at me.

“Uh . . .”

Well, she only asked who she was. She didn't specifically ask if Daniella was my girlfriend. I guessed that was easy enough to answer.

“Her name's Daniella Marie Howard,” I answered in a bored voice. Deep inside, it shocked me how I could remember her full name after just hearing it once.

She tilted her head curiously, and faced Daniella again.

“I'm sorry, dear,” she began, being kinder than before. “Do you happen to be related to Don Howard?”

Daniella's smile grew wider. “Yes, as a matter of fact. He's my father.”

I could practically see my mom's eyes twinkle in delight after hearing that tiny detail. Of course, she knew who the Daniella was. She read the New York Post, how the hell couldn't she?

“Lovely,” my mom almost beamed. “So, how do you know my son?”

Daniella's eyes flickered to me. “Ethan would rather tell you.”

Okay, so I got ten seconds to think about this.

If I introduced Daniella as a friend, my mom and dad wouldn't believe me. It wasn't everyday that I brought a girl home, for fck's sake. And I didn't technically bring her here. She came on her own – sort of.

If I said she was my girlfriend, on the other hand . . . Well, like Barbie stated, my folks would be ecstatic. I knew my mom well enough to be sure that she'd approve. It was pretty much clear when she kind of smiled after she took a good look at Daniella – and the way her expression changed after hearing about the 'Howard' thing was a given. And if ever she asked about how we met, I'd tell her to ask Daniella herself. That would get her off my back.

Plus, I could use her as an excuse in the future for me to get out of snooze fest events like tonight.

“She's my girlfriend,” I managed to say before I lose my balls.

Mom blinked, the polite smile still in place. “Pardon me?”

I took a deep breath, and repeated slowly, “She's my girlfriend, Mom.”

She looked at me, then at Daniella. The polite smile turned into genuine happiness. She literally let out a small delicate laugh, clapping her hands.

“That's absolutely wonderful, darling,” she beamed at us.

Daniella returned my mother's smile, glancing at me briefly.

I frowned and gave a nod.

She then grinned broadly, flashing her pearly white teeth at me. It didn't affect me, though. Oh, please. I got straight white teeth, too.

“We must inform your father right away,” suggested Mom, making a move to leave. “Come on, let her meet him.”

“No, Mom.” I stopped her quickly, gently grabbing her arm. She looked at me questionably. “I think it's better to let my girl rest for tonight. She's worn out, as you can see. She can meet Dad tomorrow morning.”

She considered it. “All right. You go ahead and rest, dear,” she added to Daniella. “You're welcome to stay for as long as you like.” And then to me, “Take her to the biggest guest room. I'm expecting you've turned into a gentleman that you'll carry your own girlfriend's belongings.”

My mom knew me too well.

“Don't get your hopes up,” I smirked.

She gave me a look. I knew that look well enough to know not to defy it.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”

“Ethan Xavier.”

Shit. She just used my full name in front of Daniella. But I rapidly composed myself before Daniella could notice my uneasiness.

“All right, all right. I promise. Geez.”

“You're not crossing your fingers inside your pocket, are you?”

I stared at her, dumbstruck. It was scary how she knew that.

She only cocked her head to the side, waiting for me to answer her.

I groaned, as I pulled up my palms up in surrender.

“I promise. Now go tell Dad I'm going to attend to my girlfriend's needs,” I added, giving Daniella a suggestive smile.

My mother didn't seem to notice the double meaning in my words, because she nodded and went back to the guests.

Right. Time to deal with the she-devil.

“If you manage to shut up until I tell you to speak, I'll take you to your room,” I told her. At first, I thought she was going to protest.

But it surprised me when she kept quiet, wearing only a blank stare.

“Good girl,” I grinned, patting her head like a master would to a dog.

She glared at me, making me laugh out loud.

“Get your things and follow me,” I ordered, after I closed the front door.

I saw her confused face, which clearly accused, 'You promised!'

A crooked smile made its way to my lips.

“My toes were crossed, babe,” I said. “The promise doesn't count.”

Her reaction to that was something I've seen too many times whenever I did what others might consider as 'childish.'

Whatever. At least I was enjoying myself.

“I'm waiting,” I added in a singsong voice, while I waited for her at the bottom of the stairs.

She huffed and picked up her bags – one was a large shoulder bag and the other was a big branded suitcase. As soon as she took a step towards me, I faced my front. I suddenly realized that it would be hard for her to climb the stairs while carrying her things. And it would take her forever to make it upstairs.

I squeezed my eyes shut in what I was about to do.

Ah, fck it.

I turned around and grabbed the suitcase from her.

“Whoa,” she squealed, a little startled.

“You're too slow,” I stated. “I wanna get this over with.”

She looked at me suspiciously, but let it go and followed me from behind. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw that she was looking at the pictures on the wall. I could swear I saw a smile playing on her lips, daring to show. But then, she caught me looking and wandered her eyes away.

I fought the urge to laugh. It was clear that she thought the pictures were adorable. I was in those photos. Therefore, she thought I was adorable. I could read girls very well. I was sure it was what she thought. But I also got a good feeling she wasn't one to admit it easily.

We reached the top of the stairs eventually. I immediately saw the door to the biggest guest room in the house. There were three all in all, see. And the one my mom referred to was her favorite guest room because it had a good view of the pool and garden outside, seeing as the room was at the west corner of the house.

I walked towards the door and swiftly opened it. I turned on the lights, placing her suitcase by the bathroom door.

I had to say, the room suited her. It was sort of princess-y.

A strange thought suddenly came to me . . . What if my mom was waiting for the day that I finally commit and bring a girl home to meet the family? And so, that was why she was always fussing over this particular room to be perfect?

Hmm . . . Nah, that wasn't likely.

“Here you go,” I said, turning to Daniella. “Make yourself at home. Oh, and you can now speak.”

There was an awkward moment of silence before she spoke.

“Thank you for this,” she mumbled, looking down on her feet.

I first thought that maybe I heard wrong, but her facial expression told me that I really heard what I thought I heard.

“Don't thank me,” I snorted. “You're the one who's going to deal with my mom's hounding.”

“After years of having to deal with different kinds of people,” she began, with a raised eyebrow, “I think I can handle it.”

That made me a bit curious about exactly what kind of life she'd been living. But I just wanted to go to my room and chill for the rest of the night, so I let my curiosity slip away from me.

“Right, I'm gonna head to my room,” I informed her. “If you're hungry, just go down to the kitchen and get yourself anything to eat.”

She nodded once. “Will do.”

See? We could be civil. That actually surprised me a little, especially when we had been exchanging heated retorts all day long. Whoa. It had only been a day, huh?

“Don't worry, Ethan,” she said teasingly. “I'm not the clingy type.”

I might have been wearing a worried expression for her to say that. Whatever it was, her statement still made me smile crookedly.

I've always hated – and I mean fcking hate – clingy girls. So for her to tell me that she wasn't that kind of girl . . .

Well, let's just say I may have seen a silver lining to this shitty chapter of my life.

_________________________________________

Now you've seen a side of Ethan you've never seen before. What do you think of him now? ;)

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