â RORI â
"Come again?"
In the short pause that follows Alfonso's words, i can just about make out one of my brothers muttering 'that's what she said' under his breath, followed by quiet snickering from another. My guess would be Uvaldo and Seamus, who, this morning, have proved that their immaturity truly has no bounds.
I roll my eyes, concerned only with the man's response.
"My name is Eden..." he repeats.
"Eden Åabanowski?" Alfonso adds, his sceptical tone of voice a stark contrast from the playful one he had been using earlier on, almost transforming his whole bearing.
"Yes, Eden Åabanowski," the man confirms, sounding puzzled by Alfonso's own puzzlement. "And...you are Americanâ"
"Canadian," Alfonso instantly corrects him, somewhat affronted, and a knowing smirk forms on Christian's face.
"Well, whatever you are, you are definitely no brother of mine," the man concludes, uncaringly . "So, it's like i said, i must be at the wrong house. Unless, of course, you do not live here..."
"Well, you were correct in that assumption," Alfonso says, and, with his head, gestures to Wyatt, "It belongs to his family."
Alfonso opens the door slightly wider and takes a step to the right in order to make room for my brother, who somewhat reluctantly obtains the latter's previous position.
There is a moment of silence, during which i assume the men scrutinise he who stands opposite. I do not appreciate the fact i can only see Alfonso's side at this moment, and not the expression of my brother â Wyatt, that is â but it is fairly obvious that this is the case.
Finally, the man speaks once more...
"You're going to have to help me out here. I cannot be expected to guess everyone's identity."
Talk about cutting to the chase.
"If you are claiming to be my brother, you are going to have to prove that this is the case," Wyatt responds, and i am once again surprised by his readiness to handle a situation that would normally fall to his older siblings.
Once again, it is silent and i glare at Alfonso's side profile like no one has before. God, if only he could have also taken a step back when he took a step to the side. The man's build is in no way small, and, while most of the female population would probably love to ogle at it, i would love nothing more than for a gust of wind to simply blow him out of my line of vision in order to allow me to have some understanding of what is going on.
"I would also like to see that," Alfonso says, and Wyatt wilfully hands him whatever, i'm guessing form of identification, is in his hand. "Second opinion," he adds, looking at the man when he says this. He takes a moment to analyse the small card in front of him, holding it up to the daylight and squinting his eyes as if he were an old man without reading glasses. "Seems legit to me," he concludes, returning the card to him and then facing Wyatt as he says, "but, now that i think about it, even if the ID is fake, he doesn't appear so dissimilar to Vinnie. Wouldn't you say?"
"Huh?" Vinnie says, almost in disbelief, despite not being able to see the man for himself. "I gotta see this guy."
As Uvaldo, my twins, and Christian snicker at his reaction, Alfonso's head whips round to face us, a slight smirk forming on his lips.
"Oh, yeah," he muses, facing the man once again and using a tone that tells me his smirk remains. "Probably should've mentioned that there's six people listening in on this conversation; five of which are your supposed brothers and sister."
"Right, well, if you do not mind, i will come in now," the man responds, unaffected by Alfonso's revelation.
The manner in which he says this most likely comes across as rude to Alfonso and Christian, but it is clear to me that his forward attitude is partly due to him speaking a foreign language. With saying that, they are probably used to experiencing a language barrier with us from time to time and so are not phased by his phrasing; it is simply that our English is clearly much more refined as a result of using it all of our lives.
Alfonso faces Wyatt, whose approval is clearly the only one the man, or should i say Eden, as he claims he is, cares to hear. Only after a moment does my brother respond, his tone scoffing.
"First, you had better explain how it is that you are standing on our doorstep."
"You were to expect me, no?" Eden responds, not nearly as confused by Wyatt's cluelessness as he is irked.
"It's not even eleven o' clock in the morning," Wyatt points out, in an equally impatient manner, and i can only imagine the look he gives Alfonso as he remarks, "We were to expect no one."
"Look, i did not come here to ambush you. Lorenzo sent me. In fact, he specifically instructed me to arrive at this time. So i don't know if something got lost in translation because he spoke to another of your siblings, but that is the truth," Eden explains. "We can continue this conversation right here, with six people listening who are not visible to me, or you can make things a lot easier by inviting me in. The choice is yours, my friend."
There is another pause, where i imagine Wyatt is mulling over the man's words while the two of them have some intense, matcho staring match, and then he finally responds.
"Very well. Yesli vy ne vooruzheny, vy mozhete voyti."
"Konechno net," comes Eden's instant response, his speech flowing much easier on his mother tongue.
"Alfonso will check," Wyatt dismisses. "You know; to be sure."
"Uhhh...what, exactly, am i checking?" Alfonso asks.
"That he is not armed," Wyatt tells him.
"What, you want me to pat him down like airport security?"
"Why not?" Wyatt says, with an air of nonchalance.
Alfonso huffs, dramatically, but releases the door from his hold and steps forward all the same. It is easy to say that my brother is being overly precautious by insisting that the man be patted down and checked for arms before entering our home, but such a judgement could only be made by someone who does not live with the constant awareness that, at any given moment, a member of their own family could attempt to harm them.
After all, Eden Åabanowski is the twin of Damiano and the son of Henryk. He is reputed to be a family man, but what difference does that make?
We do not know him. For all we know, him showing up here, unannounced and having never met us, could mean trouble.
"Nah, he's good," Alfonso concludes as he re-enters the house.
"I can come in now?" Eden asks, perhaps slightly frustrated.
Wyatt nods, and, a moment later, the man is standing in our foyer, taking in its grandeur with eyes that appear observant and yet blasé.
As he looks around, i scrutinise his appearance from head to toe. Already, i can see where Alfonso drew similarities between he and Vinnie. He is yet to face me, but i have no qualms he is related to us.
I had wrongly assumed that he would look most like Damiano, given that Seamus and Quentin share all but a few differences with one another, but it is automatically clear to me that, unlike their youngest half-brothers, they are fraternal twins.
His hair is only a touch lighter than Damiano's, but is fuller and more casually styled, much like Wyatt, Vinnie, Teddy, and my twins wear theirs, and he, of course, has a slight natural tan and sharp jawline, like all of us do. As expected, he is tall â probably the same height as Vinnie â but he is also clearly more built than him given that he is nearly a decade older.
He wears a brown leather jacket with light blue baggy jeans and some type of Adidas sneakers. Sambas, i think. As well as that, he holds a green baseball cap in his hand, which would explain his slightly unkempt hair. Under the leather jacket, he wears a plain white t-shirt and he is also adorned with a few items of jewellery, as is always the case with me and my brothers, such as a simple gold chain hanging from his neck and several rings on the hand that is visible to me.
The outfit is casual, youthful, and not at all what i would picture the average father wearing, but then i suppose he is still quite young. If i remember correctly, Damiano mentioned that his daughter is seven, which means he was probably around Wyatt's age when she was born. Though, with saying that, our parents clearly became parents even younger than that. Not that i can recall the exact age my mother and father were when they had Zephaniah.
I also deduce from his outfit that fashion taste is another thing which he and Damiano do not have in common. Unless, of course, Eden isn't normally wearing outfits like this. However, each and every time i have met Damiano, though this is only a few, his outfits have been more business than they have casual, and probably most similar to what Yakov wears, or even Zephaniah, though i'm sure the latter would have an aneurism if i were to even imply that.
"You weren't kidding. You really had no idea i was going to show up here, did you?"
I blink when i realise Eden is now facing the rest of us, though supposably still addressing Wyatt. His eyes, which i notice are similarly hazel to me and my twins', do not look at us but at our outfits, which, as established, consist of pyjamas, exception being Christian.
Well, when i was first introduced to Damiano, courtesy of that one gentleman and the two not so gentle men, i was wearing a skimpy party outfit and a hickey on my neck. On the other hand, i am meeting Eden for the first time in a matching pink and white checkered pyjama shirt and pants.
While both situations are mortifying, at least i am not the only one who is made to feel a fool this time around.
"Clearly not," Vinnie remarks, gesturing to the clothing worn by five of us and then looking the man up and down in a scathing manner before he glances in Alfonso's direction and adds, "I fail to see the resemblance, by the way."
Eden shakes his head, though his frustration clearly doesn't lie with any of us as he remarks "Classic Lorenzo."
"What do you mean?" Wyatt asks, confused.
Eden lifts his head as our brother approaches the rest of us, Alfonso in tow.
"This," Eden repeats. "Him telling me to show up here at a specific time â to join you for breakfast, as he put it â leading me to believe that meeting you all was something predetermined when that was, in fact, not the case. Don't be fooled. This is not some miscommunication. Such a stunt is typical of my brother."
I share a quizzical look with Christian, who stands to my left.
"You mean to tell me he sent you here knowing fully well no one was to expect you...and yet also knowing you were under the assumption you were going to be welcomed with breakfast?" Alfonso verifies.
"Like i said..." Eden confirms, seeming slightly unimpressed by the way Alfonso simply rephrases what he said.
"Wow." Alfonso laughs. "Does he hate you or something?"
Eden half-heartedly huffs.
"Lorenzo is just...Lorenzo," he says. "I understand that statement is of no meaning because you have not met him, but, generally, he does not make sense."
"Huh," Alfonso muses. "Sounds familiar."
Eden refocuses on the six of us who stand before him, his eyes scanning our features this time. He first looks at Vinnie, eyes narrowed, then at me, who stands next to the latter, at Christian, then Seamus, then Quentin, and, finally, Uvaldo, his gaze returning to me for another brief moment before reverting to Christian.
"You are his brother?" he asks, pointing to Alfonso, who now stands to his left.
"Yes, Sir," Christian responds, ever the gentleman in the presence of an adult.
Seamus snorts at his friend's formality, which Christian does not so much as acknowledge with a glare. Instead, the boy extends his hand for my newfound brother to shake, not once breaking eye contact with him as he respectfully adds "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Åabanowski."
Eden's eyes lower to glance at the boy's outstretched hand, and then raise to meet his gaze once more, his eyebrow slightly raised in what is seemingly an impressed manner. He resumes eye contact with my brother's friend as he greets him with a firm handshake, and i refrain from giving Seamus a pointed look.
"And your name?" Eden asks him.
"Christian Taylor," he responds, a small, lopsided smile on his face that only further displays the resemblance between he and Alfonso; a smile that is vibrant and full of life and exudes wealth, all at once.
Eden doesn't quite return a smile of his own, but nods his head in acknowledgement of Christian's polite greeting.
He then turns to face Alfonso, clearly expecting the same introduction.
"I don't believe i caught your name," he says, as he offers his hand for Alfonso to shake.
"It's Alfonso," the man reveals, as they exchange a similarly firm handshake. "Alfonso Taylor. My baby brother and i are...friends of this family," he elaborates.
"I see," Eden muses, before facing Wyatt, who stands beside him.
"Your name is Wyatt?" Eden double checks, as he shakes the hand of my brother.
"Yes," he confirms.
"That would make you..." Eden trails off, as if trying to place him in the correct order amongst his newfound siblings.
"Fourth eldest," Wyatt informs him, and gestures to Vinnie as he adds, "followed by Vinnie."
"Ah, yes," Eden acknowledges.
He shakes the hand of Vinnie, and then Uvaldo, and then his eyes fall on my twins, who are conveniently standing side by side.
"You must be Seamus and Quentin," he notes.
"Great detective work," Quentin uncharacteristically sneers, only to be met with a bored glance from Eden.
"Who is who then?" he prompts, still looking at Quentin as he says this.
"He's Seamus; i am Quentin," my brother responds, only it isn't, in fact, the truth, as it was Seamus who said this.
Quentin merely blinks at the sound of Seamus's lie, but goes along with it nonetheless, extending his hand towards Eden as he adds "Pleased to make your acquaintance," even changing his cadence slightly to match the mocking one his brother would use.
I roll my eyes at the two of them. Naturally, this is not the first time they have pulled this trick on an unsuspecting stranger. Only, i assumed they had since moved past such immaturity. Well, i shouldn't have been so stupid to think that. Of course they haven't.
It's not a case of just adopting one another's name, however. This little prank of theirs involves a full on 'Freaky Friday' identity swap.
In the past, they have even managed to fool some of our siblings. All of us have gotten mixed up at some point though. I'm ashamed to admit that even i, on the odd occasion, mistake one twin for another, though it is mainly when they are facing away from me as opposed to in conversation.
Eden scrutinises Quentin for a moment longer before he accepts the hand in front of him, saying nothing as he moves on to greeting Seamus.
Finally, after shaking the hand of our guests and each of my present brothers, Eden's attention shifts to me. I look into his eyes in an expectant manner, confused when he doesn't initiate a handshake like i had previously watched him do.
Then i realise that he, too, is expectantly waiting for me to offer my hand, and i do so tentatively, and only then does he shake my hand, in a manner that is far more delicate than the firm, somewhat withering one he had displayed when greeting the others.
"I'm Rori," i introduce myself, most likely pointlessly, assuming that he already knows the name of his only sister. "It's nice to meet you."
Though i maintain a respectful eye contact with him as we greet one another for the first time, i notice that he also wears a ring on this hand â his right one â and, sure enough, when i glance at it, i see yellow, white, and rose gold in the form of a traditional Russian wedding ring.
"Likewise," he tells me, and then adds, sombrely, "My older brother is an idiot. Both of them, at times. I hope you will not hold it against me."
His candid declaration throws me for a loop, and then i remember what we are dealing with. He is talking of Lorenzo and Damiano.
"Of course not," i tell him. "I know all about idiotic older brothers."
As i say this, i face my twins with a pointed look, only, Seamus who is pretending to be Quentin is unfazed while Quentin who is pretending to be Seamus glares at me like the others.
My comment gets the slightest of smiles out of Eden before he quickly schools his expression. Looking around at the eight of us, he frowns with an air of expectancy.
"Now that we have shared proper introductions, i would like to have a discussion with you all. I understand that i have disturbed your morning, that not everybody is present, and that you have friends visiting, so i will come back later if you wishâ"
"Christian and i should head home," Alfonso interjects. "This is a family matter."
"But don't you have a game to get to?" i ask, nodding to the clothes Christian has on.
"Unfortunately not," Alfonso responds. "The game was cancelled at short notice. We were going to come round afterwards at a much more suitable time, if it pleases you all to know," he announces, glancing mainly at my brothers with a pointed expression.
I acknowledge Christian's downbeat expression with sympathetic eyes.
"Well, on the plus side, at least you don't have to endure studying with me later on," i remind him. "And since i haven't been at school lately, you're probably so far ahead of me that i won't be able to catch up anytime soon, even if i try."
Christian's lips curve upwards to form an amused yet sad smile.
"You have only missed five days, Rori. I doubt it has set you back at all. The school will notify you of any work you need to catch up on and, since you will be homeschooled for a while, you can study twice as much should you wish to."
"Wait, you guys study together?" Alfonso asks us. "Outside of school?"
At the same time, i respond, my focus shifting from Christian to Wyatt.
"Homeschooled?" i repeat, incredulously. "What does he mean i'll be homeschooled?"
And why is he the one informing me?
Wyatt's expression softens.
"It's just for the time being, Rori," he attempts to reassure me.
"Until when?" i press.
"Until we deem you are ready to return," he informs me.
"I'm ready to return now!" i cry.
"Don't be ridiculous," Vinnie interjects.
"Can you raise both arms above your head?" Wyatt asks me, pointedly.
I blink.
"Yes?"
"I mean right now, Rori," he emphasises. "Without wincing in pain," he adds.
I roll my eyes.
"School doesn't require me to do that," i point out.
The real Seamus snorts.
"Face it, Rori," the elder of my twins swiftly comes to our brothers' aid. "School is not the place for you right now."
"Yeah, while now is not the right time to have brought this up," Quentin begins, sending a sharp glare Christian's way, "it goes without saying; you can't go to school until the doctor deems you fit enough. You were all but bleeding out in an ambulance this time a week ago!" he exclaims.
"Okay, calm down," i scoff, raising a hand in warning. "It wasn't this time a week ago. I was shot much later on in the day."
The look he gives me is one of sheer disbelief.
"Of all that i said, that is what you paid attention to!?"
I shrug, unapologetically.
"Get your facts straight before you dare try to lecture me, Fratellino."
At my emphasising that he is my younger brother, Seamus clears his throat and successfully diverts my attention, a harsh look on his face as he subtly gestures to Eden in warning that i better not spoil their childish antics.
I glance at Eden, who is observing the whole interaction closely. He may be Damiano's fraternal twin, but the neutralness of his expression is something i recognise from the latter after only a few meetings.
While Åabanowski genes have proved to be strong through and through, i will also say that, like his twin, i can see aspects of our mother when i dare to analyse his appearance a little closer. I know this is the case, even if my memory of her is vaguer than ever, because, as i glance between he and Vinnie, i realise Alfonso was not telling a lie when he spoke of their resemblance, and it is Vinnie who's appearance i have previously analysed when i wished to be reminded of her.
But at this neutralness that Eden displays, i can't help but be reminded that he is a father. I wonder if he is so void of expression when in the presence of his children, or if he dotes on them as though they are the apple of his eye.
The fact he is a father also makes me wonder what he makes of this whole Damiano and Zephaniah situation, in regard to what happened to Veronica and her baby. I wonder if, like Zephaniah, he believes his father and twin brother are to blame.
"It is i who should go and return later on," Eden continues, and it is only then that i realise i am still staring at him. "After all, i imposed my presence on you for no good reason."
Wyatt seems to consider his words for a moment, but, eventually, he relents, shaking his head with a manner that is far more patient than the one he had previously shown all of us this morning.
"You are here now. I presume you have travelled far. Why not stay?" he says, more so drawing conclusions than he is extending an invitation. "I will tell those of my siblings who are not present that a family meeting is in order. In the meantime, the others can...freshen up," he adds, sparing those of us who are not yet ready for the day a look of distaste, "and we will drink." he pauses, and asks the following question in a way that seems almost bemused at the prospect of the answer being no. "You do drink, don't you?"
"Well, i brought a bottle with me so i hope that answers your question," Eden responds, somehow producing a full-sized bottle of malt whiskey from the inner pocket of his leather jacket. "I brought only one, however. I did not know what else to bring. My wife usually organises such trinkets, so, if the job is left to me, i always opt for a bottle."
"What, you're going to drink alcohol?" Alfonso scoffs at the two barely acquainted brothers. "You complain about having guests over at such an hour as ten am, but you will now drink alcohol?" he asks Wyatt in a perplexed manner.
The look Wyatt gives him is plainly withering, and Eden simply looks at him as though down the nose.
"What else do you suggest we do?" Wyatt asks him, his tone clipped and intolerant. "Drink water?"
Alfonso gawks at the two men for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief.
"And here i thought i'd seen it all..." he muses, "but who am i kidding? Your brother is Zephaniah Åabanowski. I have seen it all. And then some..." he pauses before shaking his head once more, adding "Damn Slavs. You lot truly live up to your reputation."
Wyatt winks at our brother's friend, pairing the action with a smirk that is uncharacteristically mocking.
"Don't worry, Alfonso. You can have yourself a glass if you so wish."
â SUCKER PUNCH â
As i turn off the water and exit the shower, i avoid looking in the mirror at all costs. Only when i have wrapped my body with a luxuriously soft cream towel do i dare to do so, not in the slightest pleased by the girl staring back at me.
I am beginning to grow tired of being tired.
Ever since i found myself in hospital, even the simplest of tasks seem to consume all of my energy. What should be a five to ten minute task feels like a lifetime, and i hate how helpless it makes me feel that i cannot do something so simple as washing myself without being reminded of the stitches on my torso and the scar which they will leave behind; a scar which i am sure will be permanent regardless of my skin healing, due to the nature of my wound.
I should be dead right now, as my doctor so thoughtfully put. I received a gunshot to the abdomen and yet somehow, by some miracle, the bullet that was lodged inside of my body for a matter of minutes narrowly missed all of my vital organs.
When he told me this, he added that i must have some guardian angel looking out for me. Well, that certainly cannot be the case. After all, i am not the first in my family to suffer from such an injury and land on my feet.
Cats may have nine lives, but it seems us Åabanowskis have ten.
I would no doubt scrutinise my appearance longer if it were not for the fact my supposed half-brother is downstairs. It's not like i even have time to conceal the bags under my eyes, or make my hair look in any way presentable. But, much to my dismay, everyone and their dog has already seen the state of me this morning and so, really, what does it matter if i have to feel and look sickly for the rest of the day?
But as i exit my bathroom, i realise luck truly does have it out for me as, once again, it is not working in my favour.
"Christian!"
I gasp at the sight of my brother's best friend standing in the middle of my bedroom. Simultaneously, he seems just as startled, our locked eyes wide as saucers at the sight of the other person before he rapidly averts his gaze.
"Shit, sorry!"
"Why are you shocked!?" i ask him, half scathingly. "You're the one who waltzed into my bedroom!"
I grip the towel tighter around my body in spite of him looking in any direction other than where i stand.
"Yeah, because you weren't in the room a minute ago!" he justifies.
"So you thought you'd make yourself at home?" i scoff. "I was in the bathroom, idiota!"
"Iâi know," he says. "Look, i didn't hear any water running, so excuse me if i thought you would enter the room a little more...dressed," he admits.
"Well, of course i was showering!" i continue. "I haven't had the chance to today, no thanks to some people."
Christian scoffs at my accusatory tone.
"I thought it was made clear that coming here was Alfonso's doing. I just happened to be in the car with him and was dragged along as a result."
A wry smile breaks out on my face as my eyebrows raise at his resentful words.
"Wow," i laugh. "Nice to know how you really feel, Taylor," i throw his last name at him as he often does mine, the taste of it bitter on my tongue. "You know, i am grateful that you guys came to visit. Especially Alfonso. He doesn't have to. He's not my friend. But out of courtesy to my brothers, he took the time out of his day to do so. I was simply making a point when i said that...but your response..." i pause. "Well, that just confirms it."
"Confirms what?" he sighs, only now looking me in the eye.
"I did not receive a text from any one of my so-called friends," i begin, my tone of voice calm and yet, at the same time, evidently upset. "In fact, the only messages i have received recently from people at school have been sent by mere acquaintances, and they don't exactly know why i've been missing. No one at school does; i know that much. God knows what conclusions they came to," i say, already exhausted at the prospect of being subjected to such rumours when i return. "But you? You knew, Chris. And what of Annalise and Mikey? They must have been persuaded that i was unwell or something, so why is it that they haven't texted me?" i ask, confused and disappointed and somewhat childishly so. "I mean, i can half understand why Annalise wouldn't have. We aren't exactly on good terms, after all. But Mikey? Unless he has suddenly decided to side with Anna, what good reason does he have to not check in on me like i would him?" i continue to talk, not realising how long i have been without pause . "He is always very perceptive about such things, after all. And he and i have gotten closer recently. And he has good relations with my brothers. Surely he wouldn't want to upset that. Why did none of you care to message me? I don't understand."
Christian stares at me for a long moment, seemingly unaffected by my words, but then his face frowns in a way that completely contrasts the frustration he showed me earlier on, sympathy in his crystal blue eyes as he analyses me like he has never done before.
He then briefly lowers his gaze, and i fail to realise what his reason for doing so is until i hear the sound of him clearing his throat and notice a rosy tint atop his defined cheekbones.
I spare an insecure glance at the small towel i had previously wrapped around my body, which hugs my figure only a touch more modestly than a skimpy mini dress i might wear to a party would.
"Um..."
Had the mood been a little lighter, i might've even smiled coquettishly at the way he reverts to avoiding making eye contact with me, or the way that, for the first time in his life, he appears so atypically unconfident.
"Do youâdo you wanna put a robe on or something?" he suggests. "And then i will do my best to explain myself...and the others."
"I may as well put on some clothes," i don't hesitate to respond, far more composed than i had been just a few moments prior. "You can sit in the meantime. I won't be long. After all, a family meeting is in order."
Without waiting for a response, i head to my closet, closing its doors behind me. I hear the sound of Christian's footsteps on my hardwood floor, an indication of him moving to sit down.
"What to wear..." i muse, glancing at the many options in front of me.
It is moments like this that i am reminded of just how privileged i have become. I frequently step into my generously sized closet and decide i have nothing to wear, when, in reality, i am faced with too much choice.
But while i know it is unfair of me to have virtually any material item i desire at the tip of my fingers, part of me feels it is justified when i consider my upbringing.
If seven year old Rori knew she would one day have access to such a dressing room, she would...well, she wouldn't believe it was possible. Even i was often forced to wear hand-me-downs as a result of our financial struggles. I had a few good items of clothing that were bought for the purpose of attending such crucial Russian social events, such as weddings, baptisms and other church services, and i of course had my school uniform, but i certainly couldn't afford the majority of items which i currently have on display in my closet.
"I'll be as quick as i can," i call to Christian, as i remove a pair of grey yoga-style sweatpants from the rack they are hanging on. "It's best that my brothers don't know you are in here when i'm naked..." i point out. "Even if there's a double door dividing us."
When he doesn't respond, i assume he is not able to hear me. I spend a little longer choosing a top to wear, and eventually settle on a simple tank top with a ditsy floral design. I opt not to wear any jewellery for once. Though no outfit feels complete without its accessories, i don't feel the need to bother when i do not intend to leave the house. There is the one bracelet i never remove, which i fiddle with in times of stress, but wearing necklaces grows uncomfortable when i feel the need to constantly readjust them on my neck, and earrings are often no better.
Instead, i set aside a scrunchie with a pattern that is identical to the one on my top and promptly begin to dress myself.
"It would certainly help if you didn't exclaim that you are naked so loudly," Christian responds after a moment.
"Oops," i say, as i carefully pull the pants over my hips. "Sorry."
"Don't be," he dismisses. "Knowing your brothers, it will take them longer to get ready than you for they will be too busy primping their appearance in the mirror. Especially Seamus, given how vain he is."
I smile at his words.
"Yes, Seamus loves nothing more than his own reflection. It's really no wonder he does not reciprocate Annalise's feelings. Quentin's not much better these days. I think our brother's ego has inflated his own."
I hear a quiet huff of amusement on the other side of the door.
Any amusement i feel dies a sudden death as i raise my arms to put my top on and a sudden pain envelopes my side. I wince, horrified by the unexpected sensation and instinctively glance at the stitches once more.
"Rori?" Christian calls to me, concern evident in his tone.
"Chris," i say, pointlessly.
"Is everything alright?" he asks.
"Dandy," i respond.
"What is it?" he presses.
"It's nothing," i dismiss.
"Rori," he repeats.
"Christian."
"Stop with that," he rebukes.
"It's fine. I just hurt myself being stupid. It's fine," i insist.
"You hurt yourself because your brother shot you, and it's not fine," he argues.
"It is what it is," i continue, the shaking of my voice indicating the suffering i feel as i struggle to pull the top on without whimpering.
There is silence on the other side of the door, and i frown to myself. I release my unruly locks from my scrunchie, sighing as i pick up the other scrunchie. I distract myself with it for a moment, making sure it is scrunched enough for my liking, and then sloppily throw my hair up once more.
As i re-enter my bedroom, i lock eyes with Christian, surprised to find him sitting on my desk chair.
"You could have sat on my bed," i say.
"It's been made," he reasons. "I have a penchant for neatness."
"You're a freak, Christian," i scoff.
The corner of his mouth twitches with amusement.
"And you are disorderly," he quips.
I glare at him, refraining from sticking my tongue out in a childish manner.
"If it weren't for my wound, i would jump onto my bed like a starfish, if only to provoke you."
My remark is met with a mocking smile, which is instantaneously followed by a pensive frown.
I gently place myself on the edge of my bed, facing Christian.
"I didn't send you a text because i didn't know about what happened until recently, after my brother returned from New York," he explains. "Zephaniah told him about it in person, i suppose, and Alfonso shared the details with me rather unwillingly. Up until that point, i had assumed you guys were dealing with some family matter, and so i was right in a sense. I texted Seamus, but i never got a response, and then he and Quentin returned to school without you and my suspicion only grew. But you have to understand, Rori, it is not like me to insert myself where i am not involved. It is no surprise that me and Seamus ended up falling out during gym class. I realise i could have just messaged you myself, but i didn't know if you even wanted to hear from me because, like i say, i didn't know what was going on. It seemed as though they were generally avoiding me â he and Quentin and, because of them, our friends too â and so i decided to confront them with this fact. You know me. I am not volatile and i certainly don't start fights, but the manner in which i spoke to your brother was certainly less than civil. I can't remember exactly how it transpired, Rori, but i know that this argument was a culmination of mine and Seamus's own issues, and suddenly we were lurching at one another. Now that i know what happened, his reaction makes sense..."
I stare at Christian with concentrated eyes, hanging onto his every word.
His reasoning is completely believable, after all. He confronts Seamus from a place of concern paired with vexation and they end up brawling.
"I wasn't aware the two of you had...issues," comes my predictable, deflective response.
Christian gives me a pointed look.
"Of course we have issues," he scoffs. "Everybody has issues with everybody, and, similarly to you and Annalise, our differences can get the better of us," he justifies. "I love your brother like he is my own, but i am glad he is not."
I snort, knowing Seamus all too well to be offended by such a statement.
"He should have mentioned something," i insist. "Or Quentin, for that matter. Here i was, believing you didn't notice my disappearance," i say with a slight frown.
Christian looks upset for me, though rectifies his expression with candid eyes that glimmer with indulgence.
"You're fooling yourself if you believe that any single person in our school did not notice your absence," he remarks. "I thought you would have realised by now, Rori, that all eyes are on you."
I shrug.
"That doesn't mean that they are affected by my comings and goings."
"Of course it does," he insists. "Or maybe you are the one who fails to be perceptive to what is going on around her," he suggests, a clear deeper meaning behind his words that i can't quite grasp. "Speaking of Annalise," he continues, rolling his eyes slightly as he says her name, "she was especially curious as to why you were missing and her concern was partly what provoked me to press your brothers for answers. You must know that she cares for you."
I sigh softly, lowering my head in shame.
"I do," i mutter. "And i care for her equally..."
"But?" he prompts.
"This riff between us, it's like how you described the way things have been with you and Seamus. It is more than just some petty squabble."
"Hm," he muses, nodding his head in a compassionate manner.
"I supposed as much," he admits. "Do you think it has anything to do with her...friendship with Lindsay?" he innocently asks, dubious as he says the word friendship, as though he believes it is too imprecise of a term to use.
I fix him with a reproachful glare, already fired up at the mention of the latter. In response, he tilts his head in what i know to be an only slightly mocking manner.
"C'mon, Ria. I've known you far too long for you to play coy and get away with it. If there's anyone in this world you don't want to be associated with, it's Lindsay Foster. Case in point, you don't want your friends to associate with her either."
My glare hardens.
"Why would i care who my friends associate with?" i scoff. "I don't own them. They can hang out with whomever they prefer," i dismiss.
Christian's sardonic smile returns at this.
"You know, i admire your inability to conceal your contradictory emotions."
"And i admire your inability to keep your opinions to yourself," i retort, further amusing him.
"Fine," he concedes. "Lindsay is no matter to this situation."
"Correct."
"But then where does that leave you?"
I blink.
"Without Annalise, because she...she chooses to sit at another table."
"Try again," he says.
"Without Annalise, because i suggested that she move to another table."
"Suggested, huh?"
My lips curve upwards into an angel-like smile.
"I didn't say kindly," i reason, and he shakes his head at me and tsks, though his mocking amusement shines through his disapproval once more.
"Yes, well Annalise already gave me the full story the other day when we sat down at Giulia's for Lunch," he tells me.
My smile wavers.
"You and Anna had lunch?" i query, perplexed at the thought of the two of them sitting down together and finding anything of common interest to discuss.
Well, i suppose i already have my answer if the topic of their conversation was me.
"She was surprisingly down to earth," he answers. "And she wished to seek my advice. How could i deny her? After all, i am but a man of wisdom," he brags, causing me to roll my eyes.
"You're not even a man, but, anyway, what was this advice concerning?"
"You, and how best to get back in your good graces," he responds.
My eyebrows furrow.
"And why would she ask you?"
"After all, i recently made a good impression on you. This time last year, you couldn't even stand to breathe the same air as me," he answers, with a grin that is as knowing and smug as the one he would have given me back then.
"Because you were immature, and, quite frankly, disgusting with your haughtiness. Because you were just like Seamus," i insist.
"Well, you didn't give me the opportunity to be anything more," he reasons. "You abhorred me â vehemently â and, to be clear, you were no ray of sunshine either," he explains in a frank yet velvety tone of voice.
I narrow my eyes, both impressed and taken aback by his candour.
"Well, what is it that you said to her?" i ask him.
"I just explained that loyalty is such a virtue in any relationship, especially when things already seem frail. And that actions say a lot more than words do."
At these words, i am forced to pause and analyse the boy before me. For he may be just that â a boy of sixteen â but it would be dishonest to say that he is by any means dull. Still, i will not give in to his pretentiousness and admit to him being wise.
"I suppose your advice is not...totally unsound," i say, brushing him off with an indifferent tone of voice.
"Aw, you're too generous with your words," he mocks.
"Please." i laugh. "After dealing with my brothers' inflated egos for fifteen years, i've learned the importance of teaching the male species humility."
The look he gives me is only half offended.
"You say that like we're dogs."
I shrug.
"Wouldn't hurt some of you to be kept on a short leash."
Christian playfully rolls his eyes.
"What is it that Seamus and Quentin told you, anyway? Before you found out the true story from Alfonso, what explanation did they give you?"
"They didn't. And that's the point. Nothing has been resolved since Seamus and i fought the other day. I have hardly spoken to either of them. The last thing Seamus did was seethe that i should learn to mind my own goddamn business. When Annalise found out about our fight, that's when she approached me and asked me to go for lunch. I've not even spoken to Mikey because he's been stuck to them like glue, and i'm pretty sure the dude doesn't like me. I don't know, he might be happy to stay in the dark about things. He's the new kid on the block, after all. Of course he's going to adhere to Seamus's rule. He knows what's good for him," he explains. "You must know, Seamus has ignored Annalise not only since you found out about the two of them but even before then. Since the party, when they made out in Annalise's bedroom."
My eyes widen a tad.
"Well, i wish i could say all of this comes as a surprise but i'm afraid it doesn't. Not one thing. Least of all that he has been ignoring Annalise. After all, when has Seamus cared for the feelings of a girl? And I know he doesn't have feelings for Annalise. He told me so himself," i say.
"Exactly," Christian muses. "You know, i tried to reassure her that it wasn't that she did something wrong but that Seamus isn't exactly the most responsible guy when he's drunk â or ever â and that he probably thinks he's doing her a favour by keeping his distance. I do think you need to talk to her though. Not now. You're dealing with far more important matters, after all. But when things return to normal and you're back at school, maybe you and her can have a chat."
"We'll see," i say. "But it's not as though she has reached out to me lately. I know she doesn't know that i was in hospital, or that any of this crazy stuff is going on, but she normally texts me so often that i have to put my phone on silent," i explain.
Christian gives me a thoughtful look.
"Well, you know, there's also the fact that you have a tendency to..."
At his hesitation, i frown.
"A tendency to what, Christian?" i prompt, my tone impassive.
"Hold a grudge," he completes. "I'm not faulting you, Rori, but you made it very clear where you and Annalise stand when you decided that you didn't want her to sit at your table."
"Well, she had no trouble finding herself a new set of friends, did she not?"
He tilts his head in a knowing and somewhat reproachful manner.
"I thought you said the fact she went to Lindsay made no difference," he points out, patiently.
I grit my teeth, haughtily lifting my chin and averting my eyes in a manner that is rather childish.
"Whatever. Maybe i do hold a grudge, or maybe people just keep doing things that they know disrespects me. Like withholding information and leading me to question every rumour i overhear about my family," i reason. "I know i'm not perfect, okay? And i know i am not always so...willing when it comes to hearing people out."
"It's like i said, i'm not faulting you," he repeats. "And nobody is perfect. That's the whole point. You, me, Anna, Seamus. We're all human..." Christian sighs as he drifts off, and fixes me with a meaningful stare. "Look, i should go now, Rori. You have a brother to meet, it seems, and i have to return to my own brother's side before he realises i snuck off to speak to you."
At this, my mouth twists with shyness.
"I really am glad i got to talk to you and see with my own eyes that you are alright, but i only wish i found out what happened sooner. It can't have been easy to go through what you have without the support of a friend. If it was up to me, i would have been there for you when you were in hospital; never mind over the phone, but at your bedside. But as much as i am angered with your brothers for keeping me in the dark for so long, i understand that they had no choice," he admits.
By the time he has finished speaking, i cannot think of something worth saying in response and so instead offer him a small smile in the hopes that it is enough to convey my gratitude.
As unexpected as Eden showing up at our front door has been, neither Alfonso or Christian seemed incapable of making sense of the situation and so it is clear to me that they are, in fact, aware of the key details regarding my family's most recent drama. And while part of me wishes to keep conversing with Christian, he is right in that we ought to reconvene another time.
Somehow, i have a brother downstairs who i have yet to properly meet. And as stunned as i feel by his sudden presence, i cannot deny that i am intrigued to get to know him all the same.
â SUCKER PUNCH â
I make my way downstairs not a minute after Christian leaves my room to be met with the sound of masculine voices emanating from the living room. He stands in the foyer alongside his brother, as well as Eden and Wyatt, whom i realise have just emerged from the corridor to their right.
Alfonso is the first to take notice of me, a dazzling grin on his face, just as their had been earlier on.
"Well, that deals with the question of where Rori is," he muses in a deliberate manner, diverting the others' attention to me.
Wyatt appears visibly relaxed at the sight of me, though this could also be the result of him having had a drink, and i avoid looking in Eden's direction, overcome with shyness all of a sudden when i remind myself that i do not know him.
"Everything alright?" Wyatt asks me, his tone one of concern.
I nod to appease him.
"Chris, say your goodbyes now," Alfonso reminds his younger brother. "We ought to be heading."
Instead of dismissing his brother, Christian faces me, his eyes rolling in an exaggerated manner before the corner of his mouth lifts in knowing amusement.
I suppress a grin of my own as i stare back at him, relieved that all of the awkward tension between us has evaporated since our chat.
"It was good to see you, Rori," he says, despite having said the same thing before he left my bedroom. "I'm glad that you are okay." his smile softens.
Alfonso pats his brother on the shoulder, glancing between the two of us in a perceptive manner as he adds "It's nice to see that the two of you have put your differences aside after all these years. At least it seems that way. I always thought it was simply a clash of personalities."
Christian's jaw tenses at his brother's words, while i avert my gaze. As he takes note of our uncomfortableness, Alfonso seems proud of himself, sporting a self-satisfied smirk that reminds me he is not so dissimilar to my eldest brother after all.
"Like Alfonso said, we should get going," Christian states, a wry smile on his face as he glances between Eden and Wyatt, feigning the polite demeanor he usually upholds so well.
I note the way Wyatt cavalierly peers at our brother's best friend, looking him up and down in a way that reminds me of Teddy's supercilious tendencies, which causes me to narrow my eyes.
"It was a pleasure to see you, Christian," my favourite brother remarks, a kind grin on his face despite this.
"You too, Wyatt." Christian nods his head in acknowledgement, though this action also seems off-handed, as though he can see through my brother's pleasantries.
Alfonso winks at me, not seeming to pick up on their mutual hostility, and we say goodbye to one another, he and Christian also exchanging goodbyes with Eden before they head towards the door.
"Alfonso."
My head swivels at the sound of none other than Teddy calling his name, my brother's eyes narrowing in on the former as he stands in the entrance of our home, effectively blocking the brothers' exit.
At the sight of him now, i am surprised i recognised him yesterday. Like the time i visited him in rehab, his appearance seems to have taken on a new form.
He wears a Ralph Lauren polo with some blue jeans and sneakers, and hair that is nonchalantly styled, looking every bit the old money American that he isn't. While i'm sure appearance was still a priority for him prior to moving in with Zephaniah and Yakov, his taste has most certainly developed. Along with his striking blue sports car, he fits right in with the rest of the boys at school who have free reign of Mommy and Daddy's money. Only, naturally, he stands out even more so by being a Åabanowksi, who remain out of the media and yet are the heart of every conspiracy.
I almost can't believe he is the same boy who used to acquire his pocket money by picking the pockets of others passing by.
"Christian," Teddy adds, as he shifts his focus from Alfonso. "What is it that the two of you are doing here?" he asks, glancing at them both with hardened eyes.
"We could ask you the same thing," Christian says, more so to himself than to Teddy, though each of us standing nearby can clearly hear him, including Alfonso, who sends him a sharp, admonishing look.
Teddy's attention refocuses on Christian at this, his expression naturally haughty and much more openly disdainful than Wyatt's had previously been, making me realise i was far too quick to compare the two.
"Oh, did you two not hear?" Teddy begins, his mouth twisting with derision at Alfonso and Christian's underlying uncomfortableness. "I'm done with the rehabilitation programme as of yesterday...or was it some European boarding school you thought i was attending? Thanks for spreading that rumour, Chrissy," he says, winking at the latter as he does so, and my eyes widen.
Christian started that rumour?
My brain moves on from that thought as soon as it appears, deciding that whatever rumour Christian did or did not start is unimportant for the time being. Teddy lifts his head and stares at me, a flicker of acknowledgement passing through his eyes before they revert back to nothingness. He doesn't even consider Wyatt before his eyes then land on Eden.
"And who are you?" he asks, his demeanour not at all shocked, as if he had prepared himself for such an encounter before coming here.
I pay attention to Eden as he meets Teddy for the first time and note that, like earlier, there is an air of boredom surrounding him, as if he views meeting us as nothing more than a menial task Lorenzo has given him, which has in turn ripped him away from his job and home and family for the time being. Perhaps unfairly so.
"Your brother," he responds, sounding every bit as unfazed as he appears.
"Hm." Teddy's mouth twists. "I thought as much. I sure hope for your sake you're not Damiano."
"Eden," the man states.
"Riveting," Teddy responds, with a sarcastic smile, and Eden's eyebrow arches in a seemingly amused fashion.
Teddy doesn't bother to introduce himself, but simply looks at Alfonso and Christian once more before walking through them. Only now does he seem to greet Wyatt, a knowing and conniving smile on his face.
Wyatt then seems to share a look with Alfonso, who nods his head in understanding. A moment later, after the latter bids us good luck, it is just Teddy and the three of us standing in the foyer.
"Let me guess," Teddy begins, reading the bemused look on Wyatt's face, "our big brothers didn't let you in on the details of our family reunion?"
"Clearly," Wyatt responds, evidently vexed, with his pursed lips.
"Well, i must say, i'm surprised Rori didn't divulge as soon as Yakov dropped her off last night," he muses, sparing me a momentary glance of appreciation and yet not without a slight mocking tone. "So much for you being her favourite brother, huh?" he adds, and i have to roll my eyes.
A small part of me believes he is secretly glad i didn't share the fact i witnessed him get his gun confiscated after he contemplated killing our brother â in front of our other brother â in the latter's own apartment as revenge for the former almost killing me.
I almost smile to myself when i consider what use that story could be to me in the event that the others do not find out. If there's anything Teddy finds embarrassing, i'm sure it would be that.
The fact his gun was confiscated and Zephaniah made fun of his attempt to threaten him, that is. Not the fact he so recklessly decided to do so in the first place.
"Rori?" Wyatt says my name in a calm but enquiring manner. "What is he referring to?" he asks, choosing to ignore Teddy's smart remark.
"He was supposed to meet with Xavi today, to discuss things," is all i say.
I don't fail to notice the intrigued expression on Eden's face as his gaze flickers back and forth between the three of us, as if he is sussing out our family dynamic.
"I did, indeed, meet him," Teddy sarcastically quips.
The reproachful glare i send him follows instantaneously.
"Just what do you mean?" i ask him with a tone of dubiety.
"I met with Xavi, Rori," he repeats, cryptically. "We had brunch...it was delightful."
"What happened?" i press. "And where is he?"
"Teddy."
Our heads swivel at the sound of Xavi's harsh voice calling our brother's name in warning. Everyone bar Teddy, that is. Instead, the corner of his mouth raises itself higher. Smugly; knowingly.
My hazel eyes narrow as they look into Teddy's blue.
He truly does know something. Something that Xavi doesn't want the rest of us to find out.
I think he may be seventeen year old Zephaniah reincarnate.
"Xavi." Teddy begins, smugly amused as he turns around and faces him. "Did you know that today is the day we get to meet our big brother Eden?"
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and that those who are experiencing autumn are enjoying it. It is by far my favourite season, so i am sad to see bare trees as winter approaches, as well as earlier sunsets, but i enjoyed the last couple of months nonetheless and am looking forward to christmas now!
* * *
Somebody reminded me that i said i would include the siblings' birthdays in this chapter, so here they finally are:
Lorenzo â 27/01/85
D & E â 05/07/88
Zephaniah â 15/11/90
Yakov â 24/04/92
Xavi â 17/12/93
Wyatt â 31/03/95
Vinnie â 21/07/97
Uvaldo â 10/02/99
Teddy â 07/06/01
S, R & Q â 15/08/03