The first thing I asked him to do was to throw his graduating certificate in the air. He told me that he was awarded the title of Warrant Officer and had a proper red top, black bottom suit that he wasn't to wear at home. He called his regular attire 'play-military grub.' I noticed that his hair was still shaven, and that he had a real scruffy beard growing in. "You're allowed to grow your facial hair?"
He laughed, rubbing it with his hand. "No, they like a clean and sharp look. I just haven't shaven in a few days, that's all."
Even more, I noted that his acne had cleared up and he had gotten rid of his scars. He later told me that one of his military buddies had told him about some face product that could work wonders. I was just happy that he was more confident about his appearance. Good thing, too, seeing as he's a grown man now!
Too bad mommy couldn't see her first born turn eighteen. She would have been so proud of him.
To celebrate his graduation, we held a giant party. Dad invited all of our relatives and told us that we could invite anyone we wanted. Except for Seppen Hiver, who was still grounded and not allowed to attend the party. She didn't mind, though, as her best friend was our cousin Ami, and she would be at the party.
I didn't have anyone I wanted to invite except for Stefan and his mother. Harry invited several of his friends from school. I dreaded their arrival, as three of his invites were girls that despised me.
A few days before the party, Seppen dragged me inside our room and sat me down. "Yuki," she said, "our room still looks like it was decorated by a five year old. It could do with a makeover for the party, don't you agree?"
I reluctantly accepted her request, if only because I loved decorating as much as Flame loved rolling in the mud.
"One more thing, Yuki Blanche," Seppen said, pointing over to the wall next to our bed, "Harry said that you and Stefan are a thing now."
"Yeah," I said, nervously glancing over to the pictures I had hung on the wall. One was a set of photos from when we were kids. The other was from the photobooth the other day. "I mean, we're close friends an' errything," I mumbled, my words jumbling together, "and it just sorta happened."
Seppen peered at me through her white framed glasses, then chuckled. "I guess I could see it happening. But just remember, Yuki, that just because he's the first boy you've ever dated doesn't mean he has to be the last."
Getting more embarrassed by the second, I nodded and darted out of the room. How humiliating. I'd never seen Seppen with a boy before, so who was she to direct my love life?
That evening, when I came down to work on my homework, I found my brother and sister sitting at the dining room table working away. I figured that Harry could help me out with mine, since we had a few of the same classes. I should've prepared myself for the Spanish Inquisition when I saw them exchange a knowing look.
"So, Yuki," Harry started off, casually, carefully, and much too slowly, "Roger Lawson is a decent, chap, don't you think?"
"He's nice enough. What's the equation for a parabola again?" I responded, trying to lean over the table to look at Harry's work.
"Y equals x squared," Seppen automatically answered before propelling another question at me. "He's interested in you. We think that you should go out with him."
I turned my head at them in disbelief, but they maintained innocent expressions. "Unbelievable," I scoffed, "I have a boyfriend, brother and sister."
They glanced at each other again and I felt like cursing. "Yuki," my brother continued, "are you really Stefan's girlfriend? Did he ask you?"
It dawned on me that he had done no such that, and that we couldn't even be called a couple. We weren't steady. I kind of thought that it was self explanatory, but now I would have to ask him.
I closed my notebook and stood up, peeved. I would just have to ask one of my cousins for help. "You can tell Roger that I'm not interested in him," I snapped, and glancing at my brother, said, "And for crying out loud, Harry, stop being such a pig and clean up after yourself! That plate has been here since four days ago and it's starting to attract flies."
Disgusted, I turned on my heels and left.
The following evening we had our party for Bert. I felt bad for him, as he was distressed about having to talk to each of our seven cousins, plus their parents, Stefan, and Harry's friends. It was later in the evening when Bert was allowed to retreat inside, letting me finally talk to Stefan.
"Hey, baby," he said, smiling as I approached. He gave me a gentle peck on the lips. Was it tentative? I couldn't tell.
"Stefan, I have a question," I began, suddenly feeling antsy, "are we a couple? Are you my boyfriend? What are we?"
He smiled and stroked my cheek gently. "Babe, you're the only girl for me. We're a couple now."
In relief and happiness, I grabbed him and planted a big kiss on him, trying to ignore the fact that my cousin, Marcus, was watching us. Marcus had gone from the geeky little boy who had denied my comfort when he had gotten picked on, to a chubby, greasy teenager with a bad sense of fashion and a caterpillar on his upper lip.
Casting me his most charming smile, Stefan left to go grab a bite to eat inside the house. I decided to chat with some of my cousins, if only to avoid my creepiest one. I was quickly corned by Alice Hawthorne, one of my brother's friends and one of my tormentors. Her ombré hair reached her skinny hips, framing a china doll complexion, lipstick gobbed puckers, false eyelashes and an all too familiar snarl. "Hey, loser," she chirped casually, her screechy voice grating my ears.
"Hello, Alice," I sighed, looking for possible exits, "glad to see my brother invited you."
"What, are you surprised?" she shrieked, giggling, "Your brother is one hot piece of meat that I intend to get my hands on."
Grossed out, I couldn't hide my revolted expression.
"What's the matter, Little Miss Priss? Too prudish to think about your brother doing the dirty with a sexy girl like me?" She gave a little groan and a growl, licking her lips as she glanced at Harry.
"Alright, that's enough, Alice. I don't care to think about any of my siblings doing the dirty with anybody, thanks," I said, starting to walk away.
"Wait just a minute!" she cried, grabbing my arm. Her fingernails dug into my arm, causing me to yelp. "You're going to set me up with your brother, or you'll regret it."
"Alice," I cautioned through gritted teeth, my patience wearing thin, "if my brother wants to date you, then he'll ask you. I can't force his hand in a matter like this."
"Of course he wants to date me," she spluttered, "who wouldn't? He's just shy."
"Or maybe he doesn't have low standards," I muttered, wrenching my arm out of her grip and turning around, eager to leave.
"I heard that, bitch!" In a split second, Alice pulled my around by the shoulder and smacked me across the face, her fingernails raking my cheek. "I'll have you know that I've dated more guys than you could ever fantasize about seeing, kissed more lips than you could imagine existing, and sucked more—"
"I don't give a—I don't care, Alice!" I yelled, spinning away from her and darting through the gate and back to the crowd, my cheek still smarting from the slap.
No sooner had I rid myself of one dreaded enemy, I found myself standing in front of another. Leila Boucher was obsessed with Stefan and had been pining after him since he first moved here. Before our first kiss, Stefan had confessed to me how annoying she was, constantly asking him stupid questions and phoning him. When we first started to date, Leila had been a wreck for a week, not talking to Stefan and avoiding him whenever she saw him. The week after, she had transformed herself from a nerdy Asian kid to the hottest girl in the school. She had become cold, hostile, and ruthless. I didn't think that her change was completely because of Stefan's rejection, but it had a part to play in it.
Which meant that so did I.
Leila greeted me with a sneer, and I couldn't help but scowl in response. I had been on the receiving end of her icy words and I didn't wish to be targeted again.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Goody Two-Shoes herself. Tell me, Princess—"
"Leila," I interjected before she landed the first blow, "I'm so sick of fighting with you and the other girls in our school. What've I done to you? Can't we call a truce?"
I put my hands together, begging for a little bit of complacency. She seemed to consider it.
"I can't speak for the other girls in our school, but personally, you snatched Stefan away from me," she sniped, eyes narrowing, "and the only way I would consider a truce is if you gave him up."
"What a ridiculous proposition! Stefan belongs to no one, and he's free to date whomever he wishes to date," I said, feeling like I was on repeat. What was with all of these foolish girls and their desperate attempts to woo boys?
"Then there's no deal," she tittered, "so don't expect me to start curtsying to Her Royal Highness in the hallways."
I slumped my shoulders, defeated. People could be so unreasonable.
After exhausting all conversations with the remainder of my guests, I noticed one late comer who I had never seen before. She was wearing a low cut shirt, had blonde hair with a portion of her head dyed red and black—although perhaps she was a natural redhead and the blonde was dyed. I wasn't sure.
In any case, I immediately went up to her to make introductions, eager to gain an ally.
"Hello! Are you one of Harry's friends? I'm his sister, Yuki," I said, and noticing her earring, added, "Whoa, nice earrings! Any idea where I could get them? And cool nose ring! I was thinking about getting one." The last bit was a lie, but I was sure that she would appreciate that comment.
"Whoa there, honey," she interrupted. Her voice was raspy, lilting, yet soft. I felt entranced by her voice, yet repelled by her words. "You seem a little bit too square for piercings, sweetie. Listen, Yuko, is it?"
"Yuki."
"Right. Anyway, Harry invited me to this lame party, but I know that he's just too timid to ask me out so this was his anti-rejection method of doing so. I don't really care since I'm interested in him. But here's the thing—tonight, I plan on getting into his pants, and all I ask of you is that you stay out of it and don't interfere or tell anyone. Comprende?"
"Y-yes," I stuttered, shocked that this girl just met me but already disliked me.
"Great," she said, walking away from me.
"Harry!" she chimed, her enchanting voice causing heads to swivel towards her.
"H-hi," he said all too nervously. I realized that this was the girl he had been talking to me about earlier, the one that he planned on asking out. He probably invited her here so that she could scatter if our family situation really did freak her out.
She pulled Harry into a tight hug and he froze, then quickly wrapped his arms around her back. She glanced at me from over his shoulder and winked.
Tired of getting emotionally abused, I retread to my room upstairs. Seppen was nowhere to be seen. She was probably chatting with Ami somewhere. To my shock, I stumbled into my room to find Stefan sleeping in my bed. I gently nudged him awake, realizing in horror that he had left a pile of clothes at the foot of my bed.
Thankfully, when he got up, he had on a pair of boxers, so he wasn't completely naked. "Stefan, what were you doing in my bed?" I asked, trying to not let my eyes wander down to his six-pack.
"Sorry, Yuki, but I was completely wiped and my mom wanted to stay a while longer so I needed to find somewhere to crash. I probably should've just taken a couch, right? I'm sorry," he said, taking my hands in his.
"Oh, Stefan, I couldn't be mad at you, but if my dad saw a boy in his boxers sleeping in my bed, he'd be awfully mad. He wouldn't let me see you," I explained. I was mainly relieved that I had taken Seppen's advice and remodeled our room, making it look a little more mature. It would've been so embarrassing to have him see our fairy castle painting.
"Well, we can't have that," he chuckled, kissing me on the cheek. He dressed, bade me goodbye and left with his mom. When I fell asleep, I could smell his minty shampoo on my pillow.
The next morning, I nearly threw up when I walked downstairs into the living room and saw Harry necking that girl from the previous night. The worst part was that they were both in their underwear. Guess she got her way after all. It would just be nice if they didn't parade it in the faces of the rest of the family. What was the animal attraction about Harry that made so many girls go crazy for him? He was just a goofy guy that never combed his hair and farted at the dining room table. Nothing appealing about that.
When I noticed the girl's hand trailing up Harry's leg to his crotch, I darted out of the room and dry retched. Get a room!
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Bert probably saw it, too, because two hours later he announced that he had found a place of his own and was moving out. He had been so busy those past few days, between enrolling himself in university and looking for a home that he had forgotten to shave. I wished him well, and Harry even dressed himself to say goodbye. Dad looked impassive, simply nodding and shaking Bert's hand as a way of goodbye. Bert looked so sad when he shook dad's hand.
He also felt like we had lost dad.
With Bert gone, the house felt empty. Feeling lonely, I returned to my room in search of Seppen. Finding no trace of her, I scoured the bottom floor for her. A daunting feeling came over me and I walked upstairs to find Seppen standing in front of a completed painting. It was different than the one she had been working on when she got into her fight with dad.
"Seppen," I whispered frantically, "you're not allowed to paint anymore! You'll get in trouble!"
"I'm already in trouble," she mumbled miserably, staring at the bright colours of the flower she painted. How could someone so glum make something so brilliant?
She sat down and leant against the wall, closing her eyes. "The painting needs to dry," she said hoarsely, "I was up all last night and I need to sleep. Leave me alone."
"Then sleep in your bed," I suggested, but she was already sawing logs.
Turning once more to my non-human friend, I decided that today was the day that I was going to ride Flame. I had been putting it off, noting his unwillingness to be led, his habit of scratching at his saddle or attempting to rub it against something, no matter how much I loosened or tightened it. I had researched all the possible reasons that he didn't like it, had accommodated as much as possible, but in the end, it turned out he simply wasn't a horse that liked to be ridden. But he was a horse, and no matter how much I loved him, I wasn't content to spend the rest of my days shoveling his poop when I could be riding on his hairy back.
I started off by picking his hooves, minding his frog. There was nothing worse than an irritable horse with dirt under his toes, so to speak.
After combing through his hair, most of the top hairs that were bleached by the summer sun fell out, giving way to silky, darker hair.
"Wow, Flame," I said, brushing dirt out of his hair, "you're going to get ladies with hair like that." Flame had never been castrated, so it was entirely possible that I could put him up as a Stud. I wasn't sure if dad had his papers, but it sure would be helpful to have them, because for the life of me I could not figure out what his lineage was. He was a horse mutt, as far as I knew.
I saddled Flame and prepared myself to actually mount him. I was nervous, but it was important that I didn't let my nerves show, lest I freak him out even more than necessary. Carefully placing one foot in the stirrup, I was suddenly aware of two things—I was wearing wedges, and even worse, I was wearing a dress. A dress.
"I'll buy you some riding clothes," dad called out to me as he passed by, dressed like a detective from some sort of Film Noir. My heart warmed at the fact that daddy still cared about us, still payed attention to us, and still loved us, even if it was just something as small as him buying me riding clothing.
"Thanks, Daddy. Do you have a new case?"
"Yes, pumpkin, and it's a doozy. Good luck trying to ride Flame—don't get hurt."
With one big pull, I managed to fling myself over top of Flame, my dress providing little rear end support. Thankfully, the saddle wasn't too hard, but it was still hard enough to let me know that I'd be sore tomorrow. I turned slightly in my saddle to grin at dad, but he was already in his weird red van. Maybe he had seen me anyway. I grabbed the reins and felt them in my hands, stroking Flame's mane. He looked back at me, confused. He was probably wondering why I was on his back.
"Alright, Flame, I've seen you jump a few times, so we could start with that if that's what you're comfortable with. Of course, maybe it's better if we start at a nice, easy walk, eh?" Flame's ears twitched and he snorted, but he made no movement otherwise. "Er, go?" He stayed still. I knew not to pull on the reins—that would only stop him—but leaving them loose wasn't doing anything either. I gently flicked them and he whinnied. Not a good sign. Ever so slightly, and very gently, I squeezed him with my legs, hoping he would get the message.
He immediately bolted, causing me to screaming and clench the reins with fear. "Flame, stop!"
Afraid of getting hurt (and realizing that I should've worn a helmet), I pulled on the reins very hard. Much too hard apparently, because Flame let out another whinny and reared, bringing his forelegs high in the air. "Oh, that is enough of that rubbish!" I yelled, frantically trying to stay on Flame. He stopped rearing and stood still. Horses were hard to train, for sure, and I was no trainer, but Flame was my friend and he would listen to me better than anybody.
"Flame," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and whispering into his ears, trying to sound as calm as possible, "Baby boy, listen to me, you can't do that." I made my voice sound hardened and strict as I scolded him and he seemed to relax as he listened to me speak.
I squeezed Flame again, and he started to run again, but this time he had nowhere to go. "No," I told him firmly as he started to rear. He walked around in a huff, thankfully never trying to buck me, but being a pain in the neck nevertheless. An hour of later, we had circled the house several times and Flame was starting to get used to having me on his back, although I was sure that he despised it.
Yet as I looked at the low jumping obstacle that Flame could just about walk over, I was overcome with a need to make him jump.
It was probably a terrible idea, seeing both his and my own skill level, and was crazy considering what I was wearing, but I needed to see.
Just one try, I promised myself, then I'll get down and give Flame a nice treat.
As we approached the obstacle, I sighed in disappointment as I felt Flame's front feet lifting again. Great. Another rearing attempt.
But once I realized that his hind legs had lifted as well, I nearly whooped with joy. We were soaring! Flying! Flame had jumped high, much higher than needed, and all the frustration I had had with him, all the sweat I had shed, it all felt worth it now that Flame was jumping. We were jumping.
True, my butt hurt like the dickens and I needed a good, long shower, but I had never felt as I did riding on top of Flame at that moment. Not even when I kissed Stefan. Not even when he had told me that he loved me.
Right then and there, riding the horse I had known since I was a child, I knew that I belonged there.
Maybe in different clothing, however.
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