You win

Westerman - you get it

I'd like to say the hardest part of the night is over, considering dinner and dessert are now finished, but my father's wary gaze hasn't gone unnoticed, at least not by me. He's lingering more than usual, leaning on the counter while I clear the table with Delezar.

"Oh no, you don't have to do this," Mom says, grabbing one of the glasses from Del's hands and placing it on the counter.

"She's Canadian; she won't say no," I add smugly.

"You think you're funny?" Del turns to me, raising an eyebrow.

"Then you can help her," Mom laughs, picking up a dish and placing it in my hands.

"Is your family back in Canada?" She asks, placing the rest of the dishes in the sink.

"Yes, but I see them in the summer," Del adds, her voice faltering slightly.

"Her brother goes to Michigan," I say, still feeling my father's gaze burning into my back.

"Is he playing a sport too?" Mom asks, and Del smiles.

"Soccer. Our mom loves soccer, so we both got into it." She pauses. "I'd like to say I'm better, though." That earns a laugh from both of us as Sloan walks in.

"Hey, Sofia, I was wondering if you'd take a look at my shot. I have the tapes in my room, fifteen minutes tops."

"Absolutely." She smiles, placing the dish she was holding into my hands, and I roll my eyes as Sloan leads her upstairs.

"That must be hard, being so far from her family," Mom says sincerely, glancing at me over her shoulder.

"Or refreshing," I mutter.

"Builds character; seems like she doesn't have to be watched." Of course, he gets that dig in.

Mom shoots him a warning glance, and I feel the tension spike.

"You know what?" She exhales. "Why don't you go get your room set up and your father and I will handle the mess." I nod, grateful for the escape, and head upstairs.

+++

I lay on my bed for what feels like a short five minutes when my door abruptly bursts open. "We're watching a movie downstairs," Sloan announces, dragging Sofia along with her. I follow them down the steps, finding my mom bustling around in the spotless kitchen while my father remains seated at the table, watching everything with a keen eye.

I lounge sideways on the larger sofa, diagonally from Sloan, and pull Delezar down onto me.

"You want me on top of you that bad?" she sneers, her voice only audible to my ears. I roll my eyes at her cocky remark.

"More like solidifying the deal, since up until now we could be mistaken for best friends," I mutter back.

She shifts up, resting her forearm on my chest laying her head down, and as comfortable we may look, her body remains stiff on top of me. "You're lucky I'm playing for keeps," she mutters, her eyes staying on the movie Sloan picked.

"Question," my mom calls from the kitchen. "Any preference for breakfast? I'm thinking pancakes and fruit. Bananas? Strawberries?" Her voice carries over, causing Sofia to lift her head.

"I'm good with anyth—"

"Grapes, green ones," I cut her off, earning a glare.

"The greenest grapes it is!" My mom chimes and I hear her rummage through the fridge. Del puts her head back down resting a bit more relaxed this time.

"Your head is heavy," I grumble.

"That's because I actually have a brain." She retorts.

I'm not even sure what we're watching or how much time has gone by because all I can focus on is the heat of my father's constant gaze. When I finally tear my eyes away from pretending to be intrigued by the movie, I peek behind the couch to see that he's gone.