"is he cute?"

"So..." I dragged out. "Mum."

"Mhm," she said incoherently, clearly focused on scooping up the last piece of her lasagne. The strong smell was still coming from the oven although it's been almost an hour since mother finished making dinner. We ate terribly slow but our dinners were a time where we mostly talked.

"There's this boy..." I dragged out quietly, afraid of her reaction. I felt like the bright light from the small chandelier hung above the dining table had shone even brighter and situated all its power onto me.

I hate the light. I remember I was in a preschool play or something and I was one of the readers. It was a bad idea because I cried and ran off the stage when I felt a bright white light shine on me. I'm pretty sure all I had to say was 'And they lived happily ever after.' since we were doing some princess story.

Mother's head shot right up, she completely forgot about her food. "Is he cute?" she blurted, then covering her mouth with her hand, her ears tinged a pale pink.

I blushed bright red, an even darker colour than my mother but just like a routine, I bit my lip, my feet began tapping on its own and my hands grew clammy and wet. It was just something that always happened to me, I couldn't stop it.

She coughed. "Sorry. It's a natural instinct. What's his name?"

"Carson," I mumbled, pushing the meat left to right on the red-sauced stained plate.

"Last name?" Mother raised an eyebrow.

"López," I responded, putting the last piece into my mouth and chewing slowly because of all the attention.

"You mean Fred's kid?"

"You know him?" I asked, my voice splashed with a bucket of surprise. I knew he was popular but I didn't think he was popular with the parents.

"Fred López right?" Mother inquired, wiping her mouth with the napkin for the tenth time. She was such a neat freak and so lady-like in comparison to me.

I nodded. "I believe so."

"Yeah, he's bad news. Stay away from him," Mother warned, pushing back her chair and picking up her plate. "Are you done?" She pointed to my plate and I nodded so she picked it up to and walked into the kitchen, leaving me staring into space.

Why is he bad news? How does mother know Fred? I'm pretty sure everyone knows Carson and his parents. Fred and Ellie López owned a few restaurants scattered all over, they weren't big yet but no one has to be a fortune teller to be able to tell they were going to become big across the world within less than a decade or two.

Perhaps another reason for Carson's popularity; his money. He pretty much had everything. The looks, the brain, the body and the wealth. I wasn't definitely sure about his personality though. From what I've seen from the years I've been in high school, he seemed to be like all those stereotypical jocks who are narcissists.

I stood up, collecting the dirty forks and napkins. I walked to the kitchen, placing the forks in the sink, my mother scoot out of the way for me to do that since she was washing the dishes. I threw the napkins in the bin and joined my mother at the sink.

"How do you know his father? Like I know everyone knows him but how do you know he's bad?" I questioned, taking the tea towel and wiping the plate that mother just gave to me.

It had become a routine-- kind of like my nervous breakdown one-- I would dry while my mother washed and my father would stand around the kitchen talking. It was like our family time, where each person had a chance to talk.

She sighed, not one of those happy or the exasperated ones but the nostalgic feeling. "He is still a bad man, just like he was a bad boy."

I didn't speak and waited for her to continued.

"He bullied a lot of people," Mother explained, keeping her eyes on the fork she had drowned in soap. It was a very small town, everyone knew everyone else. And there were only a few high schools so it was anticipated that children would be sent to the same schools as their parents unless disabled in some way.

"Oh," I said, nearly speechless. Fred, as in the father of Carson.

Mother nodded. "I was his friend." She paused, rethinking. "Not literally, but we were in the same popular circle."

"Right..." I mumbled with uncertainty, walking over to put the dry plate back into the cupboard. What are you supposed to say when your mother reveals information like this to you?

"He also bullied your father."

"Oh," I repeated, standing still, pondering this information carefully. I knew father was a nerd but he couldn't have been that bad to fall victim to bullying.

"It's a cruel world." Mother sighed. "I may be stereotyping but I assume his son, Carson, is popular?"

"Yeah," I answered, drying the cutlery and putting them back in the cupboard too.

"Just be careful. He may seem different but you'll never know until he reveals himself. I'm not restricting you from friends but popular people like him tend to take the wrong path," Mother explained lowly and I had a feeling she wasn't just talking about Carson but speaking from experience.

I nodded wordlessly, my lip falling prey to my teeth once again.

It was silent for a while until we heard rattling of keys and the door opening.

"Honey, I'm home!" My father's voice echoed through the house as he closed the door behind him.

"Anyway," Mother said, smiling. "Think about what I said but don't mention it to your father, he hates his past."

"Okay," I answered, wringing my fingers together, the feeling of tension leaving my body.

"I've got to go get him some lasagne."

Soon we were all sitting at the dining table because father said he had some news. I assumed it's good news because he was smiling vividly and eating his food swiftly; he said he would tell us once he was finished.

"I thought you said he hated my lasagne." She raised her brow at me.

"I thought that too," I agreed, sneaking a glance at father.

Father had finished several minutes later and he began talking.

"So, I visited your uncle today," he started explaining, pushing his plate inwards so he could place his elbows on the table in front of him with his fingers entwined together. Seventeen years living with him, I now know that he would always do that when he's about to discuss something important.

"Which uncle?" Mother popped in, resting her head in one hand with her elbow on the table.

"Fern's husband, Henry," he replied. Father only had sisters, four to be exact. Two were younger than him and the others were older. Fern was the second eldest child, only by a minute and her older twin sister was Fawn. Father's two younger sisters were Emily and Wendy. One had a daughter about two years of age and I believe Wendy had just married recently. He was planted directly in the middle. It's a wonder he didn't grow up gay, mother would always joke.

Since mother had older siblings, I also had older cousins. Most were already married and living someplace else and we only occasionally meet when there's a special reunion or something, which wasn't very often. It was a big family so I could barely remember anyone, only those one father's side since we visited or spoke more often.

"Oh, that one." I nodded in remembrance.

"Yeah, their son is getting married," Father announced with a grin.

"What? Cooper?" Mother queried in shock. "You mean the skinny boy?"

"Oh, he was really skinny," Father acknowledged. "Now he's been working out at the gym and snagged himself a nice girl."

I stayed quiet.

Cooper is getting married.

My favourite cousin, Cooper. The skinny kid who would always play hang with me and refused to talk to anyone else is getting married. I wasn't even aware that he had a girlfriend.

The last time I met him was when I was twelve. It's been five years. We texted every now and then but now he was busy with work. Despite our six year difference, we were very close. Cooper and his family used to live in this town before moving to another place. It was about a two-hour drive there and back so we didn't visit too often.

"The engagement party is in a month," father informed.

"That's not enough time to pick a dress!" mother complained.

"You've got a month," he deadpanned.

"Exactly. Not enough time!" she shot back.

All the time they were childishly bickering, but my mind was focused on Cooper. How time flew so fast, I can't even remember the last time I talked to him. It's been so long. Would he still remember me? What does he think of me now?

He would always talk to me at family gatherings when no one would. They were all older than me and I was a big introvert. And Cooper was an only child like me, so that made us even closer.

"Iris?"

"Hmm?" I snapped out of my daze. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"We're going to visit them this week," Father announced as he clasped his hands together. "Meaning you get a week off school!"

"What!" Mother and I both shout.

"I can't miss out on school! What if I fall behind?" I disputed, raising my hands in exasperation.

"She can't afford to lose her focus especially since it's her last year," mother added.

"I know sweetie, but it's only a week."

"What about the party? And the actual wedding? She'd miss out too," she retorted.

"Then she can miss another week for the engagement party and the wedding should be at the end of the year during the school break."

"But--"

"It's okay, I know she's a good person. She will be fine."

"All right. If her grades start plummeting down to a B, I'll know why." Mother pointed at father accusingly.

"Better start packing." Father winked. 

a/n: vote and comment x