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“You never told me if this was an engagement party or an announcement party,” Amelia says quietly as she picks up a flute and delicately sniffs at the bubbly liquid inside.
“Just announcing us together, and for those in the ‘know’ it’s been seeded that we are supposedly getting married,” I respond with a shrug.
“That’s easier to pull off right now,” she murmurs, sipping the golden drink.
“What do you mean?”
“You are acting like a robot,” she hisses, still as quiet as a whisper. “Like you have no interest in me.”
I finally turn to fix my stare on her, and she narrows her eyes minutely, just enough that only I will notice because I’m directly across from her. I don’t understand what she wants. I don’t know how she wants me to act. I’m acting how I always have, how everyone else in my family always has, right?
I tilt my head and shake it. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She sighs. “Of course you don’t.”
Within seconds she downs the rest of the champagne and picks up another flute to sip. I feel like tonight will only go smoothly if she is happy, so I wander off under the guise of checking out the buffet tables even though canapes are being brought around by the waitstaff.
I pick up several different dishes, things I know Amelia will like. One is a mini quiche with caramelized leeks, something she will moon over, and I hope it will get me back in her good graces.
I make my way back to Amelia only to notice the person I least want to see standing next to her. My stepbrother, John, has wandered over from where he stood with my parents. He has that face on, the one he always gets that darkens his brow when he is digging for dirt. However, Amelia is smiling just enough to throw off suspicion.
I can see the irritation growing on John’s face as he steps closer to her, a menacing glint in his eye. But Amelia doesn’t notice or at least pretends not to. I hurry over in hopes to quell any disasters. I carry the small plate in my hand carefully, hoping to garner my date’s favor in two different ways.
“So, you and Adrian are planning on getting married?” John wheedles.
“For now, we are together. We will see where things take us from there,” she responds cordially, and I can practically hear the false sparkle in her voice.
Her words are carefully political, chosen to voice the public knowledge and not to feed into the gossip that is known truth in certain circles. Instead, she chooses to let him think what he wants, which can be just as dangerous as it is good. It’s like throwing a dynamite stick into a field of hidden landmines.
But in my opinion, it’s also the best choice. Not feeding into the growing gossip is the only way to go about things in this kind of social gathering. Let them assume without any real evidence. It’s the way my mother has always done it too.
“Hello Johnathan,” I say, pulling back the venom from my voice just enough that it’s not obvious to the surrounding crowd.
My stepbrother winces at the use of his full name, something he hates unless it’s by business partners or our parents. I have to keep the pleased smirk off my face. Instead, I focus on the way my sibling is turning from a hunched-over position, as if he were whispering about secrets, and shifts to stand at his full height, something just inches below mine.
It’s as if he is trying to intimidate me. I blink, trying not to show my annoyance and instead keep my face carefully blank. I probably look bored. I turn to Amelia and offer her the plate.
“I thought you might like some food,” I say, and even I can hear the apathy towards her in my voice, something I absolutely don’t want in front of Johnathan, but it’s too late now.
I don’t react and neither does she for a moment before she takes the food with an affectionate head tilt. “Thank you.”
Her words are soft, genuine, something that Johnathan probably doesn’t quite pick up, but I notice. I try to soften my features, but I don’t think it works. I don’t know how to relax around my family. I can fake it, but anyone used to being in these kinds of situations can tell.
John is watching me like a hawk, every expression, or lack thereof, is somehow a giant red flag for him. I don’t know how he can tell; I don’t seem to have the same ability. I don’t rest my hand on her waist like I know I should, it just feels like I don’t have that right.
She however isn’t afraid to gently touch my forearm as we talk to my stepbrother who just won’t fucking leave. I want him to go. It seems like Amelia really does know what she is doing. I thought she was going to be a liability, but I feel like I’m more of a problem than she is. I’m frustrated as there seems to be a barrier I can’t pass, and I know John is honing in on it.
“Why are you so uncomfortable, Adrian?” he asks, pointing it out in plain view, something people just don’t do at these parties. You never bring someone’s shortcomings out in front of their face, only behind their backs.
I stiffen. I’m not sure I hate his bluntness as much as his usual two-faced parading. But I’m also on the verge of punching his smug smirking face as he looks at me. He wants to one-up me, but does he have the guts to call me out in front of the whole family?
“Y’know Adrian?” he whispers, pressing in on my other side, away from the straining ears of Amelia. “I don’t think she’s really your fiancée. In fact, I don’t even think you’re in a relationship with her.”
I shove him away discreetly, causing him to cackle with pleasure at having gotten under my skin. I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, every hair on my skin is prickling with fury but also panic. I don’t want him to know, I need him to believe this. I just need to get away with this.
“Is everything all right?” Amelia asks, seeing John stumble slightly after I’d pushed him.
“Just dandy, my dear,” he says, straightening his jacket. “I was just telling Adrian here that I don’t think you two are together. Couldn’t be clearer.”
