Forbidden Fruit

Chapter 9: Bottomless Pit For A Stomach

Lily's POV
—————

"So, what are you doing after you drop me off?" Andrea asked, after having listened to music in silence for a few minutes.

"I don't really know, just order in food maybe." I responded, shrugging.

The Greatest by Lana Del Rey was fading out, so I quickly handed my phone to Andrea who changed the song to Diet Mountain Dew.

"Why don't you come in and stay for dinner? You know my mom loves you." She pointed out, glancing over at me with a small smile on her face.

"I don't know, I don't want to intrude." I started saying, but stopped when I saw the expression on her face.

"C'mon, you would never be intruding. My parents love you, maybe even more than they love me." She joked, a playful gleam in her eye.

"Okay, I'll come in." I gave in.

I wasn't gonna fight her that long about it, I missed her mom's amazing cooking.

After a few more minutes of driving, just as the song ended I parked the car.

We walked side my side to her front door, before she quickly pulled out her keys and unlocked the door.

Before she could open the door, someone on the other side did.

"Lily!" Andrea's mom exclaimed, pulling me in for a big hug.

"Hey Mrs. Smith." I murmured, barely able to get the words out because she was squeezing me so tightly.

"Oh Lily! You call me mama like Andrea, not 'Mrs, Smith'." She mimicked playfully.

"Sorry mama." I reply, with a big grin on my face.

We did this every time I came over.

Andrea had been watching our exchange from only a foot away, "Mama, can Lily stay for dinner?"

"Of course! She can stay as long as she likes." Alexandra started to walk to the kitchen.

"Oh! Lily, we're having enchiladas tonight. I know how much you love them." She added, looking back at me.

"I love them too mom." Andrea interjected.

"Yeah, yeah. So, anyway, Lily." She waved her off, "Would you help me set the table?"

"Of course." I nodded.

"Oh, and Andrea, when dinner's ready bring it up to your brother." She instructed, grabbing plates out of a cupboard.

"Why isn't he coming to dinner?" I asked, taking the plates from her hands.

"He's just being a stubborn, moody teenager. He wants to hang out in his room instead of being with his family." Alexandra grumbled, grabbing utensils from a drawer.

"All he ever does is hang out with his stupid little clique. They always hang out in his bedroom." Andrea chimed in, leaning against a counter.

"Andrea, go get your father from his office and tell him to come down for dinner." She ordered.

As she went and collected her father, her mom and I set the table. Just as I heard footsteps coming our way, Alexandra and I had been setting down the food.