21
"Hello!" She greeted with her prominent British accent.
"Hi!" I smiled at her and opened the door wide, welcoming them.
"No hi for me?" Ashton pouted like a child. I laughed and pulled him in for a hug. "That's more like it."
"It's nice to finally meet you," she said while handing me a bottle of Chardonnay.
"I wish I could say the same, but this idiot," I nudged his arm, "hasn't told me much about you."
"Well, I wanted you to get to know her yourself, not through what I tell you about her," he said while taking her hand into his and kissing it lovingly.
"Wow! How considerate of you," I laughed and motioned towards the kitchen. "Let's go meet Aunt Wendy."
I walked towards the dining area with them behind me. Aunt Wendy came out while wiping her hands on a small towel and tossing it back on the counter.
"Hi!" Her eyes twinkled before she hugged Ashton tightly and then moved on to hugging the girl whose name I was yet to find out. "It's lovely to meet you!"
"Likewise," said the tall girl who didn't look a day older than twenty-five.
"C'mon, let's eat," Aunt Wendy ushered us all to take our seats around the table. Ashton slowly pulled out the chair for the girl like a real gentleman and pushed it back in as she sat. I was shocked by his sudden mannerism and chivalry that I had never seen before. But the other thing was that I had never seen him with a girl before either. If this was how he treated his women then I bet this girl was very happy with my brother. He might be an ass to me sometimes when we mess around, but I knew that he has always treated women with utmost respect. Aunt Wendy had instilled good etiquettes in him.
"Here," I handed Aunt Wendy the bottle of Chardonnay before sitting down. "I guess you three are the only ones who are going to be tasting this because I don't drink."
"Thank you," Aunt Wendy smiled at the girl. "Who doesn't love a glass of Chardonnay!" Apparently me.
"You're most welcome," she smiled back cheekily. We all sat around the table that had pasta salad, lasagna, steak with a side of mashed potatoes, and Aunt Wendy's famous spaghetti and meatballs. It was like Thanksgiving and we were going to have leftovers for days. But that wasn't going to stop me from diving in. I could bet that I'd gain five pounds tonight.
"So, do I get to know your name?" I asked as I stuffed my mouth with some bomb ass lasagna.
"He didn't tell you?" She asked rather surprise.
"I'm afraid not," I mumbled, not trying to spit out all the food from my mouth.
"Arabelle," she declared. "Arabelle Leon."
"That's a pretty name. My name is Arie. I don't know if he told you that."
"Yes, he did tell me that. I have heard so much about you. I was really looking forward to meeting you."
"Did he talk mad shit about me?"
Laughter filled the room while I stuffed more lasagna into my mouth and waited for her response.
"No. He actually spoke very highly of you. All good things, I promise." She cut her steak gracefully and laid a small chunk in her mouth. I could tell she had some table etiquettes unlike me where I was just stuffing my mouth like a damn Christmas stocking.
"That's good," I smiled and we went back to eating.
Everything about her seemed familiar and I couldn't shake off that feeling. From her sea blue eyes to her dark dense hair that were loosely curled just screamed something I was yet to grasp.
"Do I know you?" I interrupted Aunt Wendy who was talking and startled Arabelle. She suddenly began to cough uncontrollably. I quickly poured some water into her glass and handed it to her while patting her back gently. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just..." she drank her water whole in one take. Impressive! We got a choker and a swallower in here. "Just got something stuck in my throat," she panted. "And no, I don't think we've met. Have you ever encountered a British girl before me?"
"No. That's why I was wondering. It's nothing. Your eyes looked really familiar."
"I've heard that a lot," she smiled at me. "So you wouldn't be the first one to tell me that actually. Perhaps my eyes are pretty common."
"I don't think so. They are pretty unique, maybe that's why I remember them."
"Okay," Ashton butted in. "Quit harassing my girlfriend."
"Oh please, Ashy," she said sweetly. "She's just getting to know me and I don't mind."
"Ashy?" Aunt Wendy choked on her wine. "You must be really special for him to let you call him that. He literally chases us around the house when we do."
"I really don't," he retorted and glared as we laughed.
"Yes, you do," Aunt Wendy and I declared in unison and continued laughing.
"Well, he's very special to me as well," Arabelle said through her giggles and looked up at my brother lovingly which warmed my heart.
"Okay! It's getting too cute in here. Let's simmer it down a notch," I intervened and disrupted their little eye sex.
We all chuckled at Ashton's rosy cheeks that were gaining more color by the passing second. He was blushing hard and this was once in a lifetime opportunity for me to see him like this. Everything that happened in the past month was absolutely crazy but this made me feel genuinely happy inside. This was the most normal thing in what felt like forever.
"Can I ask you a question if you don't mind?" Arabelle asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah, sure!"
"How did you get that scar?" She didn't just pull me out of my happy thoughts instead she yanked me out and brought me back to the disturbing reality that I was living. The mention of the scar brought back the memory of my near death experience. The terrible, absolute horrific experience.
"Wait! What scar?" Ashton looked at me. He hadn't been home for a week, so he was completely oblivious to my new injury just like he was oblivious to all my scars internal and external. Today was definitely not the day he was going to find out about any one of them.
Clearing my throat, I began pulling the strings to the lie train. "I went out and got drunk, then hit my head on a table. So yeah, that was my first and last time doing that." I fed them the same lie that I fed Aunt Wendy. Lie till they buy was my new motto. Lie till they fucking buy.
"Where's the scar?" Ashton asked rather confused.
"I have it covered with makeup, so you guys couldn't see it, but you must have a really good eye to even notice it at all," I looked at Arabelle, slightly impressed with her.
"It's just a natural gift," she giggled. "Runs in the family."
"I see."
"So where's your family from?" Aunt Wendy inquired.
"London. I came to the States five years ago for further studies, but I loved it here too much, so I moved here permanently and haven't been back to London since then."