HOW TO CATCH A BAD BOY

Elena did not look convinced, “You really think that?” she asked, “Because I feel very confused about what to do with him. My feelings are all over the place… My head tells me to do the safe thing and stay away from him…. But I feel like my body and heart says something else. I’d be very stupid to ignore what my head says, right?”

“Maybe. You’ll never know… But if you don’t try, you’ll spend a lot of time wondering what could have been and in my opinion, that could be very annoying,”

“My sister doesn’t like him very much,”

Beth shrugged, “That’s her business.” She leaned closer, “But between the both of us, I don’t think Emily hates him as much as she’d like everyone to believe, but don’t tell her I told you that because… you know your sister… And I like my head glued to my body,”

It was Elena’s turn to laugh now, but there was sadness in her eyes again after a few seconds, “I feel like I’ve been avoiding talking to her about him. I miss talking to Emily about things like this,”

“Then talk to her. I’m sure she misses it too,”

————-

It was finally time for dinner. Elena sat at the innocuous table with food in front of her and a massive floral display almost blocking her view of the person directly across from her. Elena knew enough to know that it wouldn’t be the kind of family dinner she was used to, but as she sat there, she could see that what was in front of her was playing out a completely different type of family, and Chandler was the outsider.

What she didn’t know, and what she couldn’t stop trying to uncover as she watched his parents to her right, and him to her left, was whether Chandler had chosen that role, or if it had been chosen for him.

“This chicken is bullshit,” he said as he leaned toward her. Elena caught a whiff of his scent, spicy and clean and male, and it reminded her of the hot kiss earlier that afternoon in the garden. The bite she was currently working on, and had been for a while, lodged in her throat when she choked. She saw Emily watching her with a puzzled expression on her face, and she avoided her sister’s gaze.

“Chandler.” His dad sighed.

Chandler shrugged. “It is.” He insisted.

Elena tried to keep the smile off her face at the exchange. She was fascinated at the kind of family this was, and wondered if the family a person was brought up in determined the kind of person a child grew up to be. How much was biology? A coding in genes that couldn’t be fought? And how much was the environment a child was raised in? The words spoken to them, the rules they were given, the praise they received, or didn’t as was sometimes the case.

Next to her was a grown man. He was tall and strong, unashamed in who he was as a person. But in front of the people who raised him, she watched the flip in his personality like someone had changed the channel on a television. It was impossible for her not to imagine what it had been like for Chandler as a kid because two things were abundantly clear as she chewed on the chicken that tasted like cardboard.

His brother, Elijah, was so beloved by his parents. They were proud of his educational prowess, and the field of medicine he was in. They raved about what kind of man he was turning into, his upcoming wedding, his beautiful fiance, and all the things she’d known before walking into the dinner. That he was intelligent and kind, with a huge heart for serving others.

And Chandler was their other son.

There was a clipped way that Laura spoke to him. A quickness in her glances, like she was put out by having to engage with him for too long. But she was also clearly bothered by the attention he received from others. There was a woman on Chandler’s left, who Elena came to know was a family friend. Older than Chandler, and she was far more interested in him than Laura, judging by the way she stared at his biceps straining his shirt, the width of his shoulders under the material, and the hard line of his jaw under all the scruff covering it.

“You look well,” she purred, leaning toward him until her cleavage practically fell out of her red dress. “It’s been a while since I last saw you. You should visit home more,”

Chandler gave her a dry look. “Yeah I guess so,” he replied absent mindedly.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“You must work out a lot.”

“As much as I can,” he answered seriously.

Elena’s lips rolled tight over her teeth, and she focused very hard on taking a sip of the sweet white wine that was in front of her. Laura scoffed quietly under her breath, and Elena fought against a flare of annoyance. She stole a glance at their friends, and wondered if they were enjoying their meal, or if they could also notice everything. Maybe she was paying too much attention.

“I hope you like the meal honey, honey,” Laura whispered conspiratorially. “And sorry you got stuck with Chandler as a seatmate for the evening,” she said it like a joke, but there was something in her eyes that told Elena that it really wasn’t.

Elena rolled her eyes, “I’ve survived worse.”

Laura laughed in delight.

Being in on that joke with her felt slimy because no, he wasn’t Elijah, but he was still a person. Her stepson. It was the delight that pushed her just enough over the edge to say something. “But he’s not that bad, you know. I could do a lot worse for a seatmate than a successful business man.”

Elena thought she spoke quietly enough, but Chandler went still beside her. Laura blinked at her gentle reprimand but waved a hand. “Of course, of course. He’s just not used to hanging out with his family like this… At least not for a long time. Not his crowd,” she said delicately. “Elijah was practically born to impress people.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong. Elijah was impressive. He was well-spoken and intelligent. He listened so well to what people were saying and what they didn’t. But one thing had nothing to do with the other, and if she thought about Chandler and what that kind of constant comparison could do to a child, it made a part of her light with a righteous fire.