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He moves toward the fridge, but she puts out her arms, stopping him before he can open it.
“No, it’s fine. I mean, I don’t want to have eggs, but you also don’t have to make me anything else,” she says.
“Nonsense. You need to eat. You don’t have to worry about me making you a meal. I’ll make whatever you want. I promise it’s not a problem,” Rueben insists.
“Are you certain you’re all right, Amelia?” Josiah asks once again. He walks up to her and feels her head for her temperature.
“Hmm… I suppose you’re slightly warmer than normal, but you don’t appear to be sick.”
His face still doesn’t let go of its worried expression, not that it’s surprising. She isn’t usually the type to reject her meal.
Amelia brushes his hand off and smiles at him. “That’s because I’m not ill. I just miss having tacos and I want that instead.”
I snort as Rueben finally breaks into a small smile. “Whatever you want.”
“All right, since the others will be busy today, I suppose I could take you. Wouldn’t want our princess to not satisfy her cravings, would we?” I tease, my usual grin back in place now that I know there’s nothing wrong.
She rolls her eyes at me and turns away, going to the room to get dressed, although not before I see the smile on her face.
“Something’s up with her,” I say to the guys, and I can see that they also feel the same way.
“Right?” Josiah asks, casting his gaze at the door to see if he can see her as she heads to her room.
“What do you think it is?” Rueben asks me, and I sigh.
“I can't figure out exactly what it is yet,” I respond, as several thoughts flap through my mind like the pages of a book.
We hear her approaching footsteps, and seconds later, she rounds the corner and rejoins us.
We are quiet by the time she gets back. Amelia looks at us as we look back at her.
“What?” she asks, almost shocked by our stares. It is obvious that the way we are looking at her is a little disturbing. But we're just worried.
Josiah opens his mouth to say something how we all feel like she's not all right, but Rueben immediately pinches his arm right before those words fall out of his mouth.
It was not a good thing, what Rueben did. I think she has made it clear from her actions that she's comfortable with us asking her that question or talking about the issue. We didn't have to risk upsetting her.
“Why are you guys looking at me like this?” she inquires, and we stand speechless before her. “Do I have something on my face? Is my dress torn somewhere—is it too much—is it too casual…?”
The words burst out of her in a nervous rush, so fluent without so much as a stutter as she speaks.
I look at Josiah, and he's subtly smiling. There is something about her fast-paced speech that is just so cute.
“...Is it the wig? It's the wig, right?”
“Hey…” Rueben's soft tone laced with affection punctures the air, and her voice immediately falls silent.
He walks over to her with a smile and takes her hand. “You look beautiful…as always.”
She grins faintly and exhales.
“Is that right, guys?”
“Err…right,” I say, scratching the back of my head.
“Of course,” Josiah chips in.
She heaves a sigh and says, “All right. I’m ready.”
