Finding Adelina

6

**ADELINA**

When Michael walks back into the kitchen, he isn't alone. A boy who appears to be a teenager is trailing behind him, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"Adelina, this is Levi. He's another one of our brothers." He informs me.

I send Levi a polite smile. He grins back at me. "Hey." He says. He drums his hands on the counter, then looks over at Michael, "can I get the thing from last time?"

     Michael nods. He looks up at me expectantly. I rattle off the first thing that comes to my mind that I saw on the menu when he showed it to me before, and he nods.

     He asks Iris, and then orders it.

"Where's Layla?" Iris asks him.

Michael sighs. "She's in her room. She didn't want anything."

"Oh, alright." She whispers. "Why don't we watch the TV until it comes?" She suggests, looking right at me.

"Okay. Let me just get my phone from my room." I say.

"Do you remember where it is?" She asks.

I nod, then rush out of the room. I go back the way I remember, grabbing my phone off the bed and looking at it, finding a message waiting for me from Luke.

     I smile.

     LUKE: How is it?

     ME: Fine. We're getting Greek food.

     LUKE: I heard all takeaways in America taste like ass. Brace yourself.

     ME: [laughing emoji]

     LUKE: When you're done we can call and you can show me your fancy NYC life.

     ME: Lol.

     ME: Have to go now. I'll call later.

     LUKE: You better.

     I smile again and return to the kitchen. Iris is the only one there now, and she tells me to follow her into the living room. I do, my eyes widening in wonder when I see it.

     There's two massive couches and three regular sitting chairs, all facing a gigantic TV that rivals the screens in movie theatres.

"Sit down." Iris says. I look around again shortly before sitting on one of the sofa chairs. I cross my legs and lean back. "We ordered the food. Normally it doesn't take long to get here, so it'll probably be here soon."

"Okay. Thanks." I whisper.

She smiles. "What shows do you like to watch?"

     I shrug.

     "You must have a favourite." She responds.

"Not really." I whisper. "I like movies though."

     "Which ones?"

     "I like Pitch Perfect. I've watched it, like, a thousand times."

     She smiles. "Do you wanna watch it while we eat?"

     "Sure." I say.

     "Alright." She grabs the remote off the glass coffee table and turns the television on. She goes onto Netflix, clicks on the account with her name on and puts Pitch Perfect on. "Layla and I used to watch this all the time."