Azalea

chapter 18 ~my brothers

"You look just like your father," she says, rolling her eyes as if it's a bad thing.

"But the eyes are just like your mom's," another aunt says.

"Tell us about yourself, honey," Kelly's mom and my aunt say.

"Well, I lived my whole life in Russia; there's nothing interesting, to be honest."

"How's Russia" she asks to get to know me better but can't she ask some other question.

"Cold" I simply say.

"Do you miss it there?" Life there? If you can call it a life at all.

"No," I state.

I hear footsteps. From an early age, I could tell who was walking towards me by remembering every person's footstep's speed or when they took another step.

And right now, I for sure know it's Theo.

He walks in and sees aunts

Hi, Auntie Eliza," Theo said.

"Hello, Theodore." She sounds so formal.

"How have you been doing?" he asks.

"We are good, just visiting our niece."

"Isn't he also your nephew, like I am yours?" I state, Why is she so rude?

"Honey, you and those boys are very different, and trust me, you won't be like them, ever." I mean, she is wrong, but whatever.

Theo nods and then walks away. I could see a hint of sadness on his face.

"Auntie Eliza, I understand that you have something of a problem with my brothers, but please don't forget that they also have feelings." I stood up.

"I'm sorry, I will use the restroom." I smile and go after them.

I look around and see him.

"Hey, are you okay?" I ask him.

"Oh, aza, yeah, of course, I'm great," he says, rubbing his eyes. "Are you okay?" He puts his 'happy' voice

"I'm sorry, you had to hear that."

Oh, don't worry, I'm used to that."

"So you aren't upset about it?" I ask.

"No"

"Thenn.."

"Oh, it's that you called me your brother," he smiles.

"I didn't, though."

"Yeah, you did, right after I left."

Maybe." I roll my eyes.

"But why do they not like you guys?"

"Is she talking about us?" Owen suddenly appears out of nowhere and says:

"Well, they know what we do, and they blame us for what happened to their sister, aka our mom," Theo informs me.

"Well, that's unfair," I say.

I walk back to the aunt's

"Hey, it's kind of late; I just wanted to ask, Are you guys staying overnight?" I ask like I don't know; they aren't staying. I just want to give them a hint that it's time you all leave.

"Oh, honey, you are right. You must be tired after shopping; no, we aren't staying." She gets up.

"Oh, you're leaving." Please leave.

"Yes, honey, take some rest."

"Okay, thank you for coming. See you in a few days."

My smile drops as soon as they leave. Don't get me wrong; they are nice to me.

Key word: 'to me'. Yeah, I don't like that. I don't like the way they treat my brothers. I get that they are upset about their sister, but she was a grown woman and made her choice.

I'm hungry

I go to the kitchen and see no one is there; it's fine. I know how to cook.

I started to look around.

"What are you looking for?" Kenji's voice makes me Yelp.

"You scared me for the second time today.

"I'm looking for pasta, salt, pepper, and such things."

"Pasta is in the right cabinet," he starts to explain where the stuff is.

I boil the water and then put pasta in it.

After that, I cut garlic, Onions, and carrots.

"What is the carrot doing in the pasta?" Kenji asks.

"I don't know; I always put it in."

He sits and looks as I cook.

I fry garlic and onions, add pasta, pepper, and salt, and it's done.

"What is that?" he asks.

"Pasta"

"It looks nothing like it."

"I grew up eating it."

"Give me a plate." I take out the second plate, put some of my pasta on it, and hand it to him.

He takes the first bite. Okay, now I'm kind of scared. What if he judges me?

"Who taught you how to cook?" he asks.

"Myself," he narrows his eyes, "you don't have to force yourself to eat," I say, and he stops.

Well, that hurts.

"It's not that bad, okay?"

"I didn't say anything," he defends himself.

"You didn't have to; I can see your face."

"It's not like you're some kind of Italian," I say jokingly.

"Well, I did grow up there."

"Is one of your parents Italian?" I question.

"No, dad is Mexican, and mom is Italian," he says.

But he's clearly Asian; how

Maybe

Maybe he is not the father.

"Don't think anything weird; I'm just adopted."

"I wasn't thinking anything weird." I lie.

"Yea sure," his smile makes me stupid smile.