Page 27 of The Mountain
Don’t let them sideline you. Let them underestimate you, and then make them ashamed of it.I can practically hearMaman’swords in my head.
“I hope you don’t mind our joining you for lunch,Madame. Indie and your daughter assured us this would be acceptable, but I am perfectly able to take my student elsewhere, if you had planned for a family meal.”
Jackie blinks at me in surprise. It’s an expression I’ve grown accustomed to since being here, the look of someone whose brain is quietly shifting gears, reassessing biases. I give a soft smirk. I know what I sound like. One doesn’t go through an education as expensive as mine without being taught how to speak like money drips off your tongue.
“Of course you can join us.” Jackie smiles brightly, settling gracefully in the seat on the other side of her daughter, indicating for Lily to sit next to her—and directly across from me and Eddie. “Oh, and this is Lily. She’s been given the thankless task of teaching me how to snowboard.” Jackie gives a self-deprecating laugh, glancing at Lily with enough gratitude that I feel myself starting to dislike the woman marginally less.
“Oh. We know Lily,” Eddie says wryly, voice full of hidden innuendo. “We know Lily really well.”
Lily’s cheeks flush, lips quirking into a cautious smile as she narrows her eyes at Eddie.
Mari perks up at that, dropping her menu and forgetting to be annoyed about her mother’s arrival, looking between Eddie and Lily with unabashed curiosity. “Ooh, what does that mean?” the little hellion coos. “Is she your girlfriend, Eddie?” The monster flutters her lashes with mock coyness, grinning maniacally.
Indie presses one hand to her face, groaning in embarrassment at her friend’s antics, even as she tries to stifle a hysterical giggle.
“Maybe.” Eddie lifts one brow, then pretends to study his menu.
Lily clears her throat. “We’re roommates,” Lily says, hurriedly cutting in before Eddie can say anything else that might embarrass her. She gives Eddie a hard look, then shoots Jackiea nervous smile. “Antoine and Eddie are two of the guys I was telling you about.”
“Ah yes,” Jackie smirks. “You said you had five roommates. All boys, right?”
“Hah.” Mari laughs, pointing her fork at Eddie in the same way he’d done to her moments before. “I knew it. There’s no way you could pull someone as hot as that.”
“Mari!” Jackie admonishes, but Mari seems completely immune to any maternal censure.
Indie presses both hands to her face, staring at her friend in shock through her fingers. Eddie narrows his eyes at his previously beloved student and Lily laughs—that full, breathy laugh that always has something aching behind my ribs.
“I think I like you, Mari,” Lily says, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment, but her eyes sparkling with amusement. Mari preens, and Jackie gives Lily the soft smile of a mother enjoying someone else’s appreciation of their child.
“Most people do,” Mari singsongs. Eddie snorts.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. A half second later, I hear Lily and Eddie’s phones ping too. The two tweens at the end of the table perk up, eyes eagle sharp as they study us, while Jackie peruses her menu, oblivious.
Seth: We need to have a flat meeting this evening.
I frown at my phone, at his strangely cold and ominous-sounding text taking up the newly formed group chat. A group chat with all of us except Tom. I contemplate sending Seth aprivate message, asking what this is all about, when a second message flashes across my screen.
Seth: Sorry. I mean, if everyone is available? I’m making dinner. It’s nothing bad, I promise. (smiley emoji)
My chest aches at that, at how quick he is to try and appease everyone. At the way he’s always feeding us, looking after us. Even now, when there’s clearly something bothering him.
I look at Lily, then Eddie, trying to gauge their reactions, but Lily is deep in conversation with Jackie about snowboarding, and Eddie is arguing with Mari and Indie about how to pronounce some word. I don’t think either of them has looked at Seth’s message.
I sigh, then tap out a reply.
Me: I’ll help you make dinner. You cooked last night. Let me know if you need us to pick anything up from the grocery store on the way home.
I pocket my phone, and hope he doesn’t start cooking before the rest of us get home.
The flat is filled withthe decadent scent of homemade lasagna and garlic bread, and even though I tried to eat my body weight in steak at lunchtime—since my student was paying—my stomach grumbles as if I haven’t eaten in weeks.
“Seth,” I chide, bending to carefully unlace my boots. “I told you not to start cooking.”
Lily, Liam, Eddie, and Matty rush in behind me, their voices filling the small space.
A few weeks ago, the noise of them all would have irritated me. I still balk at it sometimes, at the mess and closeness, at the way Eddie always leaves his coat rumpled next to the pile of shoes by the door, at how the bathroom is never clean. But I don’t find myself wanting to disappear into a book quite so much anymore.
“What? No, you didn’t.” Seth’s voice is muffled by the whir of the oven fan, and something clatters loudly on the kitchen counter. “You can help make the salad though.”
