Today they were both working the late shift, which meant family dinner was at the diner. I didn’t mind because it saved me trying to eat Mom’s god-awful cooking. She tried to make the simplest of dishes but always failed. It didn’t mean she gave up, though. I liked to think I got that kind of determination from my mom.
I’d barely sat down when my favorite flavor shake—banana—was placed in front of me from Mom. “How was school?” she asked, standing at the edge of the table. There were six sets of tables that fit four people around each, and when they had a party in here, all the tables were pushed together to create one giant one.
“School is school,” I said with a shrug and reached for the straw in the shake. The banana creaminess exploded on my tongue, eliciting a groan from me. I took my fill of shake then leaned against the back of the black booth. “I have some homework to do.”
Mom ran her hand through her dark-red hair, a look of concern on her face that vanished the moment Sal said, “What are we eating tonight? I’m starved.”
Mom chuckled, but the pitch was off, her attention still zoned in on me. I hated when she stared at me like that. Like I was a bomb about to explode. I wasn’t sure if she realized she made things a thousand times worse when she had that look in her eyes because all it did was make me feel even more guilty for who I was. For what I did. For who I’d allowed myself to become. She didn’t understand what it was like being me, and I didn’t need her to. I just needed her to not look at me like I was a stranger.
I hated being in my own skin sometimes, and right now, I itched for the relief I desperately needed—relief I’d been relying on more and more lately. Relief no one knew about. It wouldn’t be long until I was out of the diner and on my way home, then I could give in to my cravings and allow myself a few seconds of freedom.
I stared at the giant clock on the wall and wished for the next couple of hours to fly by. All I needed to do was make small talk—give Mom the words she needed to hear so she could tell herself everything was perfect—and eat my food.
“I’ll take the chicken and fries,” I told Sal as I reached for my shake again. If I was drinking, I couldn’t talk at the same time.
Mom told him what she wanted, and as he turned to place the order, the door flung open, and a head of light-brown hair whizzed into the diner, shouting, “Uncle Sal! Shake me!”
I snorted, which made my own shake shoot up the back of my throat and burn the back of my nose. My eyes watered and I coughed to try and get rid of the sensation, but it was no use, and by the time Belle was at our table, tears were streaming down my face.
“Aria? What’s wrong?” Mom patted me on the back, probably thinking she was helping, but it really wasn’t.
“Was someone mean to you?” Belle asked, her face now full of concern. For an eight-year-old, she sure acted like a mother hen sometimes.
Closing my eyes, I tried to sniff to stop the burning, not paying attention to anything around me until I opened my eyes back up and groaned. Belle wasn’t on her own, nope, I couldn’t have asked for small victories. She was flanked by Lola, Asher, and Uncle Brody, and of course, Cade.
“Aria is crying,” Belle pointed out like it wasn’t already obvious. Asher pulled himself up on the chair next to me, his small hand patting my arm.
“What’s wrong?” Lola asked.
I croaked, “No—”
“I think someone was mean to her like Henry was to me,” Belle supplied, planting her hands on her hips from the opposite side of the table.
“What?” Uncle Brody frowned. “That right, Jan?”
Mom choked on a laugh. “No, she was just—”
“Cade?” Uncle Brody didn’t let Mom finish. “You knew someone was picking on Aria?”
“What?” Cade frowned. “I—”
“You’re a teacher at that goddamn school, which means you look out for family. Aria is family.”
I screwed up my nose, wishing I could become invisible and float away from this situation. The men in my life were anything but not protective. They went to bat for you even when you didn’t need them to.
“I’m fine,” I finally managed to get out. “Belle made me laugh when she waltzed in, and I snorted shake up my nose.”
I was greeted with silence and several blinks, and then they were all laughing at me. Not with me, but at me, and I felt even worse than I had before. I hated being the center of attention, and now several sets of eyes in the diner were focused this way.
“Shakes are for drinking,” Belle told me as if I hadn’t already known. She pulled the chair out opposite me and sat down.
“I know,” I told her, at the same time Sal placed a shake in front of her.
“You joining us?” Sal asked them.
“Sure,” Uncle Brody said and pulled a table next to ours, not hesitating one bit.
“Wait.” Lola held her hand in the air. “It’s their family dinner night—”