The Ivy League

The Ivy League Part 14

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Nope."

"Jeez, PLEASE!"

"Not gonna happen."

I was having a conversation with my uncle. He was the one begging me, I was the one with the 'no's. Welcome to my typical family hierarchy.

"Courtney," my uncle finally said, fixing me with a glare that would definitely melt skins not as tough as my own, "I have tried asking you, but now I have no choice but to tell you. You. Will. Behave. Have I made myself clear?"

"Inescapably so."

"Good."

I huffed. "On second thought," I added and my uncle groaned, "Define 'behave'."

"You will greet all the Andersons politely, you will not in any way embarrass anyone by rude comments, unnecessary information, nor will you attempt to escape the house. And that goes for the roof, too."

I sighed. Dang it, he knew me way too well. "Fine. But does the fact that you enjoyed making out with Mrs. Anderson in high school considered 'unnecessary information'?"

"Why, yes it is, funnily enough."

My uncle opened his mouth to add something else, probably found some loophole in his instructions that I had yet to discover, but the doorbell rang. He had to content himself with a final stern look before he left the kitchen to greet the Andersons. I scowled into my empty mug, then dragged myself out of my chair, dimly hearing cheerful greetings of 'Isaac!' from the hallway.

I was totally unprepared for what I saw at the front door. Or rather, who I saw.

The tall man and his gorgeous wife from the photos looked pretty much the same today as they did then. But I suddenly realized why the man had looked familiar. Nate stood beside him, almost as tall as his father.

"...OH."

My bad, that was out loud.

Everyone looked at me, smiling with polite puzzlement. Actually, Grace looked beyond puzzled and even a little bit worried; she had called my phone yesterday and I hadn't picked up. I had also climbed onto my roof and refused to come down until she left, because she had crossed the street to knock at my door, trying to figure out why I had bolted from her house with unholy exclamations of 'holy shit'.

Yeah. He was Grace's brother. Holy grandmother of a walnut. How could I have been such an...

"Idiot," my uncle mouthed at me from across the hall when no one was looking.

I ignored him and glanced shame-facedly at Nate now, and he was looking a bit confused, too, but embarrassed like me. Despite it all, I could tell he found this funny. I decided I would have a laugh about it with him later. In, say, about thirty years when I could live down the humiliation of assuming Grace's brother was her secret boyfriend, and after running into the almost naked, aforementioned brother, had run out of her house and onto my own roof.

Yeah, this might take some explaining.

But then I caught my uncle's eye again, and my meek embarrassment was replaced by outraged indignation. He was grinning at me, thoroughly enjoying himself.

That great bastard child of a steaming booger-eating scorpion! He had known the whole time what I had been thinking; he'd probably figured it out when a bewildered Grace had come pounding at our door.

Oh, he was going to get it after this was over.

He must have assumed the worst from my glowering expression, because he hastily invited everyone into our so-called family room. Everyone got settled comfortably on the leather couches, and then an awkward silence descended. My uncle apparently had no inclination to break the silence, but instead grinned at me. My goodness this man knows how to be infuriating. Even I could take a few pointers from him, and that was saying something, as Jake would point out.