Chapter 83

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P.S: This chapter and the next few chapters won't be them quarantined yet

***

Alyssa's POV

***

"Why can't Emma take care of me?" I pout, looking up at Grayson.

He sighs and buttons up his white shirt, adjusting his tie. 

"Because she's visiting her parents down in San Francisco, honey"

I sigh and flop back on his bed, my legs still crossed. This is so annoying. The twins have some stupid dinner to go to while dad is babysitting me. I barely know the guy!

"Grayson, please!" I whine. "I'm so awkward around dad. It'll be torture!"

Grayson laughs at this and shakes his head, spraying on some cologne. 

"It's a great chance for you guys to bond and hang out, you know? Catch up on the last few years he missed"

"Did I do something to upset you and Ethan?" I ask. "Is this your way of punishing me?"

Grayson turns around and sits down on the bed to put his shoes on. 

"I left dinner in the oven, emergency numbers on the fridge, and you'll be in bed by ten so what's the big deal?"

"The big deal?" I sigh. "I don't even know the guy!"

Grayson pecks my cheek and grabs his blazer, shrugging it on.

"I mean what will he think?" I ask.

Grayson looks me up and down and cracks a smile. 

"I think he'd find your white teddy bear pyjamas adorable"

I throw a pillow at him and he catches it effortlessly. He puts it back and walks into the bathroom. I sit on the toilet cover as he brushes his teeth.

"You guys promise you'll be back at twelve latest?" 

Gray rinses his mouth and starts flossing as he nods. 

"I pinky promise"

I can't help but feel anxious. Imma be alone at home with Dad while the twins are out at dinner. 

Grayson frowns and kneels down in front of me, making our eyes share contact.

"Aly, kiddo, I know this look," he sighs. "Do you feel anxious?"

I nod. "A little"

"Well then come take your pills. I don't want you having a panic attack while Ethan and I aren't here. Dad doesn't know about your anxiety"

"My point exactly" I mutter.

I follow Gray into the kitchen where he opens the medicine cabinet and gives me my anxiety calmer pills. 

***

"Your brothers sure do know how to cook," dad says, taking our empty dinner plates to the sink. "Do you?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I don't cook a lot"

Dad nods and dances over to the fridge, singing a weird song and grabbing a can of beer. It's his fourth one this evening.

I swallow hard.

"You don't talk much" dad comments, cracking his beer open and taking a long drink. "You feeling okay?"

No.

"Yeah" I nod. "I'm just tired"

Lies.

"The boys tell me you can sing," dad says, raising an eyebrow. "Care to share?"

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