Backstreet Boy

|Chapter 47: Stage One|

Isabella

First stage of the plan was ready to be executed.

Well, originally, the first stage was to buy Jason attire fit for the wealth of The Valley, but after grudgingly raiding his wardrobe, a new revelation came to light. Jason did have adequate clothing which would impress my parents which consisted of shirts and trousers which my opinion was overruled his jeans theory.

After arranging everything within school time via texts and making sure Lizzie and Matt were up-to-date with my plan (as well as them offering advice wherever I required it), it was time to go home and inform Mother of the guest we would be inviting for dinner... who we have already invited, I should amend.

"Mother," I called out, entering the house through the door through the garage.

Mother was normally hot on my heels as soon as I'd step foot into the house, but today she was relaxing on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand. This was a little early for her, I confess, but nonetheless, she looks relaxed.

"In the lounge, Isabella," she called back after I had already detected her. "Is something the matter?" She was even smiling at me when I ambled into the lounge, her beady eyes on me. "You know," she commented absently, "I can't imagine what you'd look like had you inherited your father's eye colour."

Ignoring her statement entailing my eye colour and acknowledging that the wine may be going straight to her head, I thought this seemed like the best time to have this discussion.

"Mother," I began, "I've been seeing someone..."

Her dreamy, vacant expression perished and left as a substitute was quite insolent. "Not that boy from The District, I hope." She basically had to spit that sentence out.

"No," I said quickly, my heart hammering in my chest as I was lying through my teeth here. "He's from The Valley. His name is Ryder Holloway. He's new here, too. He was just meant to start school but he's been ill so I've had to take his homework round but now he'll be returning to school on Monday."

"That's awfully quick," she perceived, "but I don't think Abigail mentioned anything about a new boy in school."

"He's my year, Mother, she wouldn't really care," I replied. "So I thought – would it be okay if we invited him round to dinner tonight? I've already asked him and he would like to meet you."

Mother, aghast and taken aback, took a very long pause before answering, "Why, yes, I don't see why not. I'd better start dinner then. What time is he arriving?"

"About six?" I suggested.

Mother glanced at the clock suspending on the door by the television in the corner. She calculated her time, making sure everything would fit in before conceding with, "Yes, that should be fine. Yes, invite him round. It would be lovely to meet him. I'll see if I can get hold of your father and ask him to come home early given the circumstances," she muttered, abandoning the lounge and heading straight for the kitchen.

After confirming plans with Jason, he arrived at six. He left his typically-spiked up hair spiked up but he kept running a hand through it and in the process, gradually flattening it, but he wore a baby blue shirt tucked into a pair of trousers. He also wore his best shoes and not those indestructible, tarnish-repellent boots. I guess Alex had assisted him with getting ready and giving him some pointers because Jason seemed rather composed, except for the hair-flattening.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs Reynolds," said Jason, holding his hand out.

Mother shook her head politely and said, "Likewise, Ryan."