You're Just Jealous

I smacked Dorian in the arm. "I totally had it. Right Salvatore?"

He responded by chugging down his soda.

"Uh-huh, sure you did." Dorian looked freshly showered too.

His sandy hair was still wet and slicked back.

He always dressed so nicely, and today was no exception: a light green polo with dark jeans and a brown belt that matched his shoes.

"You're so pretty, Dorian." I grabbed the can of soda from him and cracked it open.

He smirked. "Don't I know it."

One by one, the guys sauntered into the kitchen, each handsome in his own way, each dear to me.

These guys were my family.

I'd do anything for them, and I knew the feeling was mutual.

After last night's freak-out, I figured the guys might act weird toward me, but it was the same ol' same ol,' and for that I was grateful.

Gabe walked in last.

He looked just as he always did - gorgeous brown hair, mischievous green eyes, olive skin, and a body of lean muscle - but everything was different too.

Those arms held me last night.

He'd made me a promise, and as he walked toward me, I knew he meant it.

The closer he got, the warmer my body became. Ignoring his brothers, his lips brushed against my face, as though resealing the promise he'd made earlier.

One of them - Sebastian, I think - did the whole fake cough thing. "Jerk."

"Yeah, you're just jealous. Get over it," Gabe responded.

Jealous, I thought.

No way.

But as I scanned the faces of the brothers, I realized something.

Sure, they were family, but we weren't related, and they saw me as a potential girlfriend, not a sister.

How long had this been going on?

Had I really been so oblivious?

I knew I was turning red, and I lowered my face, intently studying the soda can.

But I'm not even pretty, I thought, mortified.

Heathcliff cleared his throat. "Let's go. The train leaves in twenty minutes. Hopefully, we'll make it." He grabbed a set of keys off the hook on the wall that said, coincidentally, KEYS.

Eight of us in one car; this ought to be interesting.

Turned out to be four of us in two cars. Heathcliff drove the red Audi, and Salvatore drove the black Mercedes SUV.

Gabe sat in the back with me, and Dorian sat in the front next to Heathcliff.

Heathcliff had been right.

We made it, but not by much.

As soon as we were in, the train pulled away.

The ride into the city was fun but uneventful.

There was one brief moment when I got the distinct impression someone was watching me. The little hairs on the back of my neck and on my arms stood up, and I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Trying to be nonchalant, I searched for the cause, but didn't notice anyone acting strange or, at least, not odd towards me.

Shrugging it off, I listened to the guys and their interesting conversations about sports, cars, and women.

***

There was something magical about Boston.

Puritans founded the city in 1630, so perhaps magic would be considered blasphemous, but that was the word that came to mind.

After Salem, this big city was my favorite place.

A hum, or a vibe, pulsed through the city, uniting its occupants.

We started at Boston Common.

Salvatore brought a Frisbee, and we played on the grass for a while.

The air was humid, hot.

After an hour, we were all sticky and in need of liquid refreshments.

The eight of us went to a local coffee shop for a cold drink.

After that, we split up.

Sebastian, Salvatore, Bart, and Daniel decided to get out of the heat and see a movie.

Heathcliff informed us Professor Pops had asked him to drop something off. It was all very secretive.

Dorian, Gabe, and I said we'd keep him company.

We took Tremont Street to State and decided to stop at the Faneuil Hall Market Place.

It was packed with people and all sorts of shops, from clothing to jewelry to food to purses.

The guys each bought themselves a slice of pizza, which smelled so heavenly I almost rethought my food choices but settled on an almond fruit smoothie.

We purchased tickets to see a play contending for Broadway called Chasing Disaster later that night. It was a musical about the life of Sylvester Stallone. Stallone and a musical didn't seem to mix, but we wanted to give it a shot.

The sun had begun to set, making the glass buildings glow as though they were on fire.

Heathcliff led us into an alley that, at one time, hundreds of years ago, had been a cow path.

Sunlight dappled the brick buildings high above, but down near us, darkness prevailed, as did the dank smell of rotting trash and fish.

I breathed through my mouth with little relief.

"Where are we going, Heath?" Dorian asked, a hand over his nose.

Gabe shoved him. "You're such a baby." He glanced at me, worry creasing his forehead. "How are you handling this?" he whispered.

I put a hand over my nose and mouth. "Gotta say, Dorian has the right idea. The smell is atrocious."

Gabe nodded.

Heathcliff didn't seem to be bothered by it. He kept looking from a piece of paper in his hand and side to side at the old doors almost hidden in the walls.

The alley seemed to go on forever, and I wondered how much longer we would be here.

Finally, Heath stopped and scratched his head.

"I think this is it." He knocked, and we waited.

After several seconds a young Asian boy in navy shorts and a white tee shirt answered the door.

He appraised us before asking in perfect English, "What do you want?"

I felt the hesitation in the brothers. They all had their shoulders hunched except Heathcliff.

"Hello," Heathcliff said, giving the boy a smile. "Adam Henry asked me to bring something to Kenmei-sensei."

The boy stepped back as though Heath had cursed.

"One minute." The door slammed, and there was high-pitched shouting in Japanese.

We looked at each other.

I shrugged, tucking my hands into my front pockets. After several more minutes, an elderly Asian man opened the door.

He wore clothes similar to Professor Pops.

"Adam Henry has something for me?" He bowed slightly.

Heath, Dorian, Gabe, and I returned the bow.

Professor Pops had been teaching the boys about different cultures since they were little. Sometimes he'd teach me, too, and for that reason, I knew that it was a sign of respect to return the old man's bow.

Heath pulled a folded paper from his back pocket. "Are you Kenmei-sensei?"

A smile ignited the man's face. "Hai."

Heath handed him the paper. "This is for you, then."

With slightly shaking hands, Kenmei took the paper and unfolded it. He studied whatever was on it.

The four of us shuffled back and forth, waiting patiently, but I thought I'd gag if I had to stay in the alley much longer.

The smell was more than awful.

Finally, Kenmei looked at Heath and then set his gaze on Dorian and Gabe before his eyes rested on me.

A prickling fear surged along my spine.

Looking into his dark eyes was like looking into the Universe.

If anyone asked, I would swear I saw stars and planets rotating within.

"You are not one of Adam Henry's sons." It wasn't a question.

I shook my head, placing my hands behind my back in fists. "No, I'm just a friend of the family."

"A good friend," he added.

"Yes," I agreed, working to keep the overbearing fear crawling along with my appendages in check.

His stare worried me, and I glanced down at my feet, realizing I stood in a puddle of murky yellow water.

Shifting, I moved closer to Gabe.

He placed a hand at the small of my back, and I relaxed.

"Come." Kenmei stood back, his hand gesturing that we enter. "Adam is expecting an answer. Won't the four of you come in? My grandson, Hiro-san, will make you some tea."