“Disagreed,” Tyler throws in. He smiles, bows his head, and then folds his arms across his chest. Neither Ella nor Dad pays attention. By now, they’ve probably figured out that he’s always going to have something negative to say every so often, so there’s no point even acknowledging it. I’m starting to do the same.
The drinks arrive and we order. I end up pointing to the first option I see. Everything is far too sophisticated and bizarre-sounding to comprehend. I’ve probably ordered a whale’s testicle.
“How long do we have to sit here for?” Tyler asks five minutes later, interrupting our parents’ conversation and staring at them from across the table, his face blank. He loosens his black tie, undoing the top button of his white shirt. “I’ve got better things to do.”
“Stop being so moody,” Ella murmurs, and then she clears her throat and her voice becomes solemn. “Did you take your meds today?”
“Mom,” he says sharply, quickly glancing sideways at me just before his eyes narrow back on Ella. “I’m gonna go get some air.” Pressing his palms on the table and pushing himself up to his feet, he slides his chair away and heads for the door.
“Just leave him,” Ella says, sighing as she places a hand on Dad’s arm. He looks as though he’s about to charge after him.
“You say that every single time,” he huffs. To begin with, I understood why it was so easy to get irritated by every single thing that Tyler did, but by now it’s apparent that Dad quite simply dislikes the guy. Period.
Ella momentarily frowns but then forces a smile onto her lips and rubs Dad’s back. “Just cut him some slack.”
I want to ask about the medication she mentioned, but I bite back the urge, not letting my curiosity get the better of me, and instead I silently wonder about it—although it’s really none of my business. It could be treatment for erectile dysfunction or something equally private and as personal, but given the way Tyler and Tiffani are all over each other, I highly doubt it.
Ella decides to move the subject away from her eldest and most reckless son, focusing on Jamie instead. “Jay, how’s that biology project coming along?”
“It’s okay,” says Jamie. He shrugs and stares sheepishly down at his lap. “I still need to finish the osmosis diagram.”
“I hated diffusion and osmosis and active transport,” I say, forcing myself to get involved in the so-called “family” meal. “Just wait until AP biology. It gets worse.”
Dad smiles in approval because I’m making an effort to join in, but then nods to Jamie. “Can you go and find your brother? The food will be here soon.”
“I’ll go,” I blurt without thinking, and I’m surprised at myself for even offering. “It’s really hot in here. I need some air too,” I lie, then get myself out of there as fast as I possibly can. Perhaps I’m still curious.
When I get outside, I scan the entire lot, but there’s no one around. Only a car pulling in and another pulling out. It’s the middle of the afternoon, so the sun is hot against my back, my eyes squinting through its brightness. I zero in on the Lexus and the Range Rover, which are parked side by side. Ella struggled to get the Ranger Rover into the small space and Tyler ended up having to park it for her. It’s then that I notice a figure sitting in the driver’s seat.
Without a single question or even a word planned to say, I head over there, but cautiously. Tyler’s the type of person who would slam the vehicle into reverse and kill me instantly, so I feel slightly anxious when I eventually reach the window and gently tap my knuckles against the glass.
His head snaps around, his features sharp as he furrows his eyebrows. A few long moments pass before he decides to roll down the window. “What?”
“Are you coming back inside?” I bite my lip and take a step back. After I say it, I realize how pointless it was to even ask.
“Screw that bullshit, I’m not heading back in there,” he mutters, then turns away from me.
I press my lips together, tilting my head. I mirror his glare. “You’re kind of melodramatic, don’t you think? It wasn’t that big of a deal. She only asked you a question.”
His eyes widen, but his frown remains. “Are you stupid? For real—are you? You don’t understand shit, goddamn Eden Munro.”
“There you go again,” I say, rolling my eyes, my voice rising in agitation, “overreacting about every little thing. I’m trying to understand what the hell is wrong with you, but you treat me like shit every time I talk to you, so forget it. Now I’m going back inside, because I’m not a self-centered douche bag who throws tantrums when things don’t go my way.” Resting my case, I spin around and head back across the lot.