One Last Shot

chapter seventeen: rituals

• • •
Tayla

     Growing up I was never the center of attention in my family. In fact, I would dare to say I'm still not even at my current age. Out of all the ten heritage families, I am one of two girls who are the first born. Kennedy was the other one, although I never shared a connection with her. I spend my days next to patients on operating tables, she spends her days walking down runways for Victoria Secret.

     My family expected more from me than they ever did from my brothers. While Owen and Matthew were playing sports, I was inside practicing how to articulate my words. At dinners, when the boys shoveled food in their mouths like rabid animals, I had to use proper dinner etiquette all while one of house staff members would pull back my shoulders any time I slouched.

     With years and years of practice, I blossomed into what the heritage would deem a proper woman. The sad thing is no matter what I did, I still had to live in the shadows of my brothers, even if I am older than them.

     At parties my parents hosted, guests would crowd Matthew and Owen and bombard them with questions, while I would be running back and forth helping the staff with serving drinks. On the rare occasion that somebody would come up to me, they would politely ask how I was doing before transitioning the conversation back to the topic of my siblings.

     As much as I could make it a sob story for myself, I really didn't mind not being the center of attention. I would sneak out of the parties, just for a few minutes, to sit in my room, which overlooked one of our gardens. Sometimes I would even get the chance to slip away from smaller gatherings my parents had and would read books in our library. I loved just having those few minutes to myself, even if they didn't happen often

     You could understand how much of a 180 turn my life has taken now. A week and a half has passed since I came home to the surprise of Noah's roses and my days feel like they are being fast forwarded. The days I've worked are the same. I get ready and leave my apartment just to find Garrett standing in the lobby waiting for me. I drive with him sitting in the passenger seat and when we arrive at the hospital, he stands against the wall by the nurses station, silent as ever.

     I do feel bad for the guy though. Lindsey has made it her personal mission to get him to spill words out of his mouth. 'Garrett, what's your favorite show?' 'Garrett, what do you want to eat for lunch?' 'Garrett, what's your favorite sex position?' Yeah, definitely had to get her to shut up after that one.

     And as the days have passed, Noah and I haven't really talked. I realized constant communication with him is something I shouldn't expect. I'm not ashamed of the amount of time I spent googling 'What does an NBA player do during the day?' and yikes I got tired just looking at it. According to the random people on Reddit, I can now see why he can't really talk all the time, it seems like the poor guy never gets a break.

     The most important thing that I realized I'm grateful for is the fact that no one from my family has yet to find out about Noah and I's relationship. Neither one of my parents even use their phone, so I don't have to worry about them seeing. Owen has never once used social media and Matthew deletes his apps during football and basketball season so he isn't distracted. And anything reported on us on cheesy news stations doesn't broadcast in LA or New York. Saves me from having any conversations with them about my love life.

     My phone vibrates in my hand.

Becca: hey hey !! almost here ? we got the same seats. :)