Chapter 16

So today's the day, Thanksgiving Day, and after cooking side dishes all night with Di, I get to wake up at this ridiculously early hour and find a black turtleneck and a red plaid skirt laid out on the foot of my bed.

I groan and let my face fall and contort into an expression of pain and sorrow as I hear her footsteps approaching.

She wouldn't, she would not fucking do this shit to me on the first major holiday since my release from state custody. It's cruel. It's sadistic.

"Cece," she opens the door and I try to wipe the horrified expression from my face. It threatens to reappear as I see her outfit, exactly the same as the one laying at the foot of my bed, "Good morning! I thought we could wear matching outfits this year, like we used to every year..."

Her voice trails off. Nostalgia is one of Di's things, right up there with tidiness and decorum. I suppress a sigh and instead try to mimic the cheery smile on her face.

"Of course Di."

"And maybe you could let me do something with your hair." She scrunches her nose like she does when she's pretending to be uncomfortable with asking something, as though she's trying to say something without being rude. There's no use arguing, my hair looks a mess; I nod my agreement. "And maybe take out your piercings?"

"Di..." That's asking too much, and I won't stand for it, but then she pouts, and I cave in like a soggy roof. "Whatever you want, Di."

"Great! Get dressed, the turkey's almost done and people will be arriving soon."

She backs out of the room and twenty minutes later I emerge, looking like a high fashion magazine's version of a Scottish soldier. Twenty minutes after that, she has finished pulling my hair up into an intricate bun, complete with fly aways and bobby pins poking me in the scalp. I go to grab my boots from beside the door, but Di clears her throat loudly and comes rushing over with a pair of black ballet flats in one hand and a frilly apron in the other.

"Wear these, not those." She scrunches her nose up at my boots. I'm thoroughly offended; anyone else would be getting cursed out right now. But not my Princess Di. Never Di. "And put this on, and then come help me in the kitchen."

I put on the shoes,  then pull on the apron, which I discover -to my horror - is embroidered with a giant turkey and reads 'Happy Turkey Day'. I immediately snatch it back off. I have my limits; the line has to be drawn.

She doesn't even notice that I'm not wearing the hideous thing as she hands me dishes to set the table, and mercifully as I walk away someone knocks at the door; I'm not at all sorry for being grateful that someone else has arrived for Di to torture with her homemaking antics.

She hurries over and answers it, throwing her arms around David, as I grimace to myself. Of course it isn't Harry, who probably isn't even awake yet, but it could have at least been Kick.

I've decided to believe that David isn't a creep, that I'm just paranoid and weird; but something in me won't let me forget the look I thought I saw him give me that day in his apartment. I can't pretend I didn't see it, even if I can't be exactly sure what I saw, and though this isn't the first time I've seen him since then, it's even more awkward between him and me now than it was before.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Cecilia."

I jump a little, startled at the sound of his voice in such close proximity to me; I didn't hear or see him come into the dining room. He stands awkwardly by the door; I feel that old uneasy feeling, the one where my nerves are on edge, the one that goes away for the most part when I'm with Harry...where the hell is he by the way?

I try to keep my stare from becoming intense as I respond.

"Thanks. Happy Thanksgiving."

He keeps his eyes trained on me as I continue setting the table. I'm suddenly aware of the tightness of this goddamn turtle neck, and how much of my legs are showing in this fucking skirt.

Where the hell is Di?

Where the hell is anybody else?

"Di tells me you helped with the cooking this year." I nod my head and neatly fold the cloth napkins on the table. "That's something I can help with!"

He sits across from me and reaches for a napkin just as I do, his fingers brush over mine, I instantly snatch my hand away.

"CeCe! I need you in here." I gladly hustle into the kitchen. Di is basting the turkey, she frowns at me when she looks up. "Where's your apron, CeCe?"

"I spilled cranberry sauce on it."

Lies. But the damned apron is hideous and I'm already in a kilt.

"CeCe! Already?"

"Sorry."

"Just be more careful, honey. The food on the counter is done, put some of everything in the glass serving bowls and set them on the table okay?"

I nod, another knock sounds at the door and she hurries over to it.

"Harry!" She says, with a tone in her voice that gives away her real feelings towards him. She's still mad at him for keeping me away for two nights. "Come in."

"You sure?"

"Of course, get inside and don't make a scene!"

I chuckle to myself at the urgency with which she shoos him into the apartment; some of our neighbors must have been in the hall and seen her talking to the man covered in tattoos. Di has always been concerned about keeping up appearances; nothing has to be fine, but everything has to look fine. She gets that from our mother. It's bad enough people see me come and go pierced and dressed like a grungy weirdo, and now here is Harry.

But at least Harry dresses somewhat presentably.

He comes into the kitchen in an oversized black sweater and skinny jeans with holes in the knees and another beanie; a black one this time.

I take it back: Harry looks like a homeless man, but with newer clothes and a much better smell.

The look on his face is hilarious as he checks behind him to see if Di is within earshot before speaking.

"Baby, what the hell do you have on?"

His eyes are wide and playful as his mouth forms into a smirk. He looks adorable.

"Di wanted to match today..." I scowl and turn away from him. His eyes linger on my now piercing-less face, then travel up to my bun. "Shut up!"

"You look pretty." He smiles and takes my face in his hands, kissing me softly. The heat returns to my stomach immediately. I missed it. I missed him. "I missed you."

He looks so honest and sweet. I smile up at him.

"You just saw me last night."

I chuckle to myself, remembering his clumsy self sauntering around the kitchen, making me laugh and driving Di crazy as he 'helped make supper'. He was a ray of sunshine with his oven mitt puppets and and tasting every ingredient he found sweet or strange; we both pouted when Di finally kicked him out for the night.

"I know, but I missed you when I left and today before I got here. Any time we're not together, really, if you leave the kitchen and go into the living room I'll miss you."

"You got it bad, Haz."

"I'm dying of it, Cilly Baby."

I grin at him, he looks serious and stares into my eyes. The smile fades off of my face. He places his lips against mine, slides his tongue into my mouth and not only do I feel it I respond; I'm not just letting him kiss me: I'm kissing back.

"Excuse me..."

I pull away at the sound of David's voice, Harry grins down at me and turns his head away from David to laugh. I push his hands away from my face and step back.

"Yeah?"

I ask while trying desperately not to blush as he responds.

"Diane needs to speak with you..."

His voice trails off, his eyes linger on Harry, who has just begun to acknowledge his presence in the room. I nod at David and pinch Harry's elbow to get his attention.

"Don't do that, it turns me on."

I forget about David and smirk at Harry before doing it again. He leans forward to kiss me and I turn my head so it lands on my cheek.

"Listen, wash your hands and put the stuff in these dishes in those bowls and make it look neat or Di will have a fit. She's worse than I am about this shit, okay?" I look at him, he nods, I kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear. "Try to be nice to David."

"I'm always nice."

He whispers back with a defiant expression on his handsome face.

"Yeah except when you're not."

He chuckles.

"CeCe! I need help with the cornucopia!"

"Coming, Di."

I hurry out of the kitchen, feeling David's eyes following me as I leave but at the moment I'm not concerned. Harry is here, I don't have to be concerned about anything; he'll protect me.

I don't want to be the girl who needs him, but I can't deny how nice it is to have him again.

I sit on the couch with a very flustered looking Di and look down at what looks like a horn full of leaves and a multiverse of corn on the cob.

She pouts.

"It just isn't coming together!"

"W-What...um...what? Is? It?"

She throws her hands in the air and shrugs, as though set off by my question.

"It's a traditional Cornucopia!"

As if I'm supposed to know what the hell that is?

"Okay..."

I'm saved by the door yet again; someone knocks and she shoos me away to go answer it. Kick stands in the hall, and behind her is Zayn, looking shy and a little surprised.

"Hey Boo!"

I exclaim as I throw my arms around her.  I let go and she introduces me to Zayn again, I swear she thinks I have brain damage on top of everything else...probably because I lose my keys all the time and shit like that but really? I am able to retain small pieces of information; my short term memory is in tact.

Anyway, Zayn comes in with a dish of something that smells incredible. I smile at him and he smiles back. Both smiles are genuine. Zayn and I have something in common, I can't say what it is, but I can see it in his eyes.

"Happy Thanksgiving."

His accent is as heavy as Harry's but different as though he comes from another part of the country. I can't help blushing at the sound of his voice.

"Thanks, and thank you for coming, and bringing food. You can bring it into the kitchen and my b-" I stop mid sentence and shake my head a little at myself. "Harry will show you where to put it."

"Okay."

Kick's face lights up as she watches Zayn cross into the kitchen, I smile at her as she stares after him.

"You like him a lot don't you?"

She turns around sharply and looks shocked.

Guilty even.

"What? Who?"

"Uh...Zayn..."

Her face calms as she takes in my words. I don't really have time to think about it as someone else knocks on the door.

I open the door and freeze in place. I'm not breathing, my heart isn't beating, my mind is blank and I think I'd prefer to be dead at the moment more than anything else. I don't really notice the gasps from Di and Kick. I don't feel my mother's arms as they wrap around me, or hear her as she tells me how beautiful I look. All I can do is stare at the other person at the door. The one who's staring right back at me, leering at me, just as he always has.

He wasn't supposed to be able to find me, but there he stands.

The wolf himself.

Peter.