Fragments Of Us

(12) Alexandria

I parked my car in front of the brown shingled cottage home with a wraparound porch and white double front doors with glass panels. The Cunninghams’ home was beautiful, and it amazed me every time, but at heart, I still feel like it couldn’t compare to my mother’s beach house.

While walking up the steps, I glanced at how my Ford Fusion seemed out of place with the cars that were already parked there. There was Jackie’s red Hyundai Ioniq, Cooper’s Mercedes Benz C–class, and in front of the garage was Zack’s BMW X5 parked right next to Cece’s Volvo S60. For some reason, I felt as if my Ford didn’t stand a chance with these cars, but I loved it and had fought for it against my sisters.

Last year, when our father wanted to buy us a car, he was met with a challenge he hadn’t prepared for. We all wanted different cars and weren’t willing to compromise. Rosa wanted a navy blue Audi A4, Lily wanted a white Mini Cooper S, and I wanted a white Ford Fusion. The fight had lasted for months until, like everything pertaining to my sisters and me, my father decided he had had enough and teamed up with our grandparents and bought each one of us a car.

That was what the Moreno family knew how to do well. Throw money at their problems. When our father left and started his other—more loved—family, he would send expensive gifts for our birthdays and holidays, but never once did he ever decide to visit. It took a few years before our grandparents wanted us to visit them during school holidays, and whenever we went to Kingside to see them, they spared no expense.

My father and his family were never present in our lives. We saw them once or twice a year. Yet that didn’t stop them from being angry with our mother when they learnt that we were using her surname.

The door opened, bringing me out of my thoughts. Cecilia grinned once she saw me.

“Oh, thank goodness, it’s you!” She exclaimed before closing the door. “I’m going through a crisis, and Jackie is no help.”

She grabbed my hand and made me take a seat on the rope swing sofa. Standing in front of me, she held out her hands, motioning me to look at her outfit.

“What do you think? Is it too much?”

I looked at her with a smile. She had her make-up done, which I thought was a bit much. She could have done a more natural look—or maybe I felt that way because I had the natural look going for me. Her hair was curled, which was something she did on special occasions, but I didn’t see it as too much. Her outfit looked perfect to me. She was wearing a blush pink shacket, a white tank top, a black mini skirt, and ankle booties.

Although seeing her outfit made me wish that I would have dressed up too. But I didn’t have the energy, and my mind was all over the place, and yet I still agreed when Cece called me to come and help her set up. I was wearing jean shorts, a white laced tank top, an oversized button-up shirt that I didn’t bother buttoning up, flat sandals, and my trusted locket that I got when I was sixteen with a picture of my mother and sisters on one side and a picture of Jackie, Cece, and Emmie on the other. The outfit had seemed appropriate at the time, but now I was wondering if it was good enough.

“Alex,” Cece called, agitated. “Get out of your head and tell me what you think?”

“You look great,” I told her honestly. “Your make-up is a little...”

“Too much?” she asked, and I nodded. “Well, I don’t care about the make-up, as long as the outfit is great.”

I grinned with a shrug. I didn’t have to ask her why she was worried about her outfit. The answer was obvious. Quinn Bellwood.

This is where having a crush sucked big time. Knowing that the person didn’t see you that way but not being able to stop yourself. I went through the same thing when I was fifteen and crushed on the sixteen-year-old Oliver. It was torture trying to look good for him and not knowing if he felt the same way. In the end, it turned out that he did, but it was too late by then.