A DeLuca family event is not for the faint of heart. I'm the youngest of six kids—Aldo, Regina, Marco, Enzo, Christina, and then me. Alessandra. And like all prototypes, the older models have some... issues.

Take Aldo for example. Blue-eyed and cherubic, he's a mini version of our father in every way except that Aldo's so chronically boring, he's been known to make small children cry. I'm currently pretending to listen to him talk about the copyright lawsuit he had to handle on behalf of a soy milk company, while imagining his hairline slowly creeping away until it matches Dad's. I give him four years. Tops.

A text notification pops up on my phone, sitting face up on the table next to me.

On the other side of the table, Christy snorts. I watch her lock eyes with Enzo and mime doing a shot. Of course she would want to turn it into a drinking game. Enzo shakes his head at her and mouths, this is why you're single.

In Christy's defense, that's not from lack of trying. She's a class-A maneater, and has dated and ruined more men than anyone could reasonably keep track of. Even now, my sister is eyeing Jamie like he's the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and she's the Lucky Charms leprechaun. Not that this is anything new.

I risk a glance at him. He's flipping steaks with my dad, dressed beach bum casual in his vintage t-shirt and cargo shorts. Thanks to my mini vacation in the cellar and fake interest in Aldo's Soy Milk Saga, I've been able to avoid saying hi to him. I wish I could avoid seeing him entirely. Despite the fact that it's not even June, he's already starting to get that dangerous summer glow to him. James Keller takes to summer like a toad to pond scum. He'll get all golden and muscle-y, his sandy hair turning even blonder than usual, and I'll end up with a front row seat to every woman in upstate New York from ages 8 to 85 throwing themselves at him.

As I'm watching, Christy shows Jamie the text Enzo sent us, and he laughs in the way that used to give me butterflies. The sound makes me grind my teeth.

Gina notices their exchange and asks, "Something funny down there?"

"You mean besides the fact that Aldo thinks copyright infringement is an interesting conversation topic?" says Christy, who has never been one to shy away from sharing her feelings.

"Yeah man." Enzo throws a wadded-up napkin at Aldo. "Quit trying to put us to sleep."

"Hey, I actually was interested," Gina defends.

It's strange how alliances get forged in a big family. Gina is so much like Aldo, in looks and personality, that we all call them the wonder twins. They almost always end up on the same side of any family argument. Christy and Enzo are the same way, probably because Enzo's so laid-back, he doesn't care when Christy bosses him around. He's two years older, but he's never been one to rock the boat, so he just goes along with whatever she says-which just so happens to be Christy's favorite quality in a sibling.

Then there's me and Marco. He was moved out of the house by the time I was twelve, but unlike my other older siblings, he stuck around. Growing up, he was everything I thought a big brother should be. He helped me with my homework, let me steal his sweatshirts, and threatened to beat up any and all boys who did me wrong.

I could really use him right now.

"Ah, Enzo's just lost because he thinks infringement is the little tassels on his goofy cowboy jacket." Jamie says something in Italian I can't hear, and Dad barks out a laugh.

"Shut up, Keller." Enzo looks completely unbothered by this attack. "We all know you're jealous you can't rock that look."

"Or any look," I mutter. I can't resist, he left it wide open for me.

It's a fatal mistake, though, because speaking draws Aldo's attention back to me. Here we go again.

While Enzo and Jamie break into a retelling of some time when they went line-dancing in the city, both trying to talk over each other to convince Christy whose version is right, I look back at Aldo, forcing myself not to look physically pained, and mentally curse Jamie. He had to steal my fun siblings.

Aldo turns towards me. "So Lissa, are you still doing that babysitting stuff?"

The question surprises me, and turns my fake smile into a real one. Props to Aldo for trying to seem interested in me and my life. I want to tell him that I'm actually a nanny, with a contract, and PTO, but I know that won't impress him. "Yeah, I am."

"That's great. Childcare is so important." The effort he's making to sound genuine is touching. He's keeping eye contact and everything. "And you're still part-time at..."

"Walmart." I generously finish the sentence for him, since the word probably makes him break out in hives. "Mm-hmm."

He nods thoughtfully. "That's just a temporary thing, though, isn't it? I'm sure there's a lot of jobs available in your specialty. What's your degree in, again?"

Ouch. Just like that, I'm back to reality.

"Early Childhood Education." It shouldn't hurt, really, but I feel like he should know that. After all, I know both the schools he went to and all the honors he graduated with. I can't help saying, "You came to my graduation ceremony, remember?"

"Right." He scratches his cheek, where I can tell his neatly trimmed beard is bothering him. He must sense that it's grown a millimeter too long. "Sorry, it was just so long ago, and I'm so busy with this case."

Which is actually important. Unlike my degree, earned from a community college, with a 2.8 GPA and no ribbons or special Latin words tacked onto it. He doesn't say that, but he might as well have.

"Speaking of the case—" Gina, who had been texting furiously while the conversation swerved into talking about me, now puts her phone down. "When you say they're going to try to appeal the ruling, what do you think the chances are they'll be successful?"

"Well, going off the precedent..."

Christy and Enzo knock back invisible shots, and I sigh. It was nice while it lasted.

I go back to listening but not really being a part of any of the conversations going on around me, and find myself missing my nieces and nephews. Marco's got his boys at home, Aldo's daughters are with his recently separated wife, and Gina's husband is putting her kids down for a nap upstairs, so I'm forced to continue masquerading as one of the adults.

It wouldn't be so bad if my siblings weren't world class champions at ignoring me. They've had years of practice at it, so obviously, they're pros. My old attention seeking habits sit like an itch under my skin; the urge to climb up on the table and demand that everyone listen to what I have to say. Is 24 too old for that? Maybe I should bust out that fainting routine I've been working on.

"Lissa!" With the timing of a saint, Mom comes out the back door, her baking apron folded over her arm. I know what that means. "Time for the candles."

"Coming!"

I fly through the backyard, kiss her on the cheek on my way, and then make a beeline for the kitchen. My cake sits on the counter in all its glory. No homemade grocery store frosting slab for me. This is a Mom specialty. And she even remembered to leave me a bowl with extra icing.

I'm supposed to put the candles on, but I leave them for the moment and hop up on the counter, grabbing a spoon and my frosting bowl. I'm about to pack on five pounds of pure sugar and oh, will it be worth it.

The back door opens again, and then Jamie pushes into the kitchen. I immediately freeze, but he doesn't even notice me, just throws open the fridge. Completely oblivious.