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Chapter 5

Seeing Eleanor in the morning placed a bigger burden on me more than I initially thought it would.

It hadn't been as bad when it was happening. It hadn't been as bad when it was over. Not even when I spent time replaying the event in my head, had I felt like my heart and lungs were deflating and I couldn't breathe. My heart was beating in a staccato rhythm that physically hurt, and I feared it was going to burst any second.

It must have been what I did. The kiss; such an insignificantly huge act. The flap of the butterfly's wings which created hurricanes.

Surely, that was why I shivered a little when I woke up to see Eleanor's sleeping bag. It had been empty, but I still had to take my time and remind myself to inhale and exhale. For a couple of minutes, I had laid stiff, only sitting up once I was sure I wasn't going to vomit from the motion.

Even though I found a bit of comfort that Eleanor had been asleep, I couldn't shrug off the feeling that she somehow knew what I had done.

Just as I folded up both bags and unplugged my phone from where it was charging, she appeared. She was carrying their cat, stroking along it's fur and murmuring unintelligible words to it. No, wait... she was warning the cat about how leaving the fridge door open was very uncalled for and a recipe for disaster. Eleanor bent over to set the cat down, pushing the hood of her onesie back down after it fell over her head. Our eyes met.

It was impossible not to look at her, even more so, it was extremely hard to keep my eyes on her, to hold her wide doe-eyed gaze.

She stared at me with the ghost of a smile, waving a sleeve-covered hand and letting it fall after a second.

Then we both said "I'm sorry." One soft, one hoarse.

"You're not supposed to be sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Eleanor sighed, pushing stray strands of her hair back. "What happened... also wasn't one of my best moments."

I smiled, shaking my head at the reference to the first day chunky boots stomped their way into my life. "It's alright," I mumbled. "I'm also sorry, I--"

"No, no, no, you're not supposed to be. I was the one who put you in that position and it was just..." Eleanor breathed in deeply, hands going up to hold her face between her palms. "I'm the only one who should be sorry."

I was beginning to consider the possibility that Eleanor had no idea about what I had done.

"What are you sorry for?" Jacob entered the living room, a hand firmly gripping a large towel around his waist. He was dripping, literally. Water slid down his body to the floor as he scurried around the room, throwing cushions and scattering the neatly piled books on one of the coffee tables.

He turned to me abrubtly, drops of water flying from his curls with the action. A few landed on my bare arms. "Did she hurt you last night?"

I shook my head. I actually wanted to do more than that, but Jacob was standing close to me and would smell my morning breath if I dared to utter a word. What was happening in my mouth was a whole party he definitely wouldn't want to be invited to.

"Are you sure?" The blond asked as he went back to slowly making a chaotic mess.

This time, I responded with a bob of my head, and even managed to add, "Uh huh."

"Cool then."

I was thinking of how I was going to tell them I was leaving when Eleanor spoke.

"We'll be going shopping today. Want to come with?" she asked, and all I heard was "I want your company."

"Yeah," I said as I stood in the doorway. "I want to come with."

Her attention turned to her brother. "Mind telling me why are you tearing the house apart, Jacob?"

"I'm... looking for my phone," Jacob huffed out.

"Can't you do that after you're done drying off?" Eleanor complained, scrunching up her face as she wiped away the fluid that landed on her chin. "You're getting water everywhere."

"Can't. I haven't showered yet, I need to find my phone first. My shower playlist is on there."

Eleanor and I made eye contact. It made me feel like we were suddenly immersed in an episode of The Office.

"And those are like, the songs you cry to in the bathroom?" Eleanor asked after a really thick silence.

"Shut the hell up." Jacob threw a cushion. His aim was spot on.

I got a phone call a couple of minutes after I had taken my breakfast. It was from my mother. I took unusually long to pick up for some reason. It wasn't like I had to scramble for my phone or anything, it was in my hand the entire time.

"Hello, Ma."

"Hello." My mother's smooth voice was smooth and calm. "Wo ho te sen?"

As with all of our phone calls, it was routine that she asked how I was doing. As with all those times, I was true to my usual answer. "I'm doing fine," I responded.

I didn't realize how I had said it until my mother spoke again. "Now you just speak English?"

"Daabi." I denied her question. Sighing, I added, "Ma, I don't speak just English," in the only local dialect I was fluent in speaking. Twi.

By now, I had a fair idea that the rest of our conversation would include little to no English. I should have also seen that the sigh I let out was a mistake.

My mother told me to go ahead and end the call if I thought it was too bothersome to speak to her, as if doing that wouldn't have her take me out of her last will.

As I had learnt, there was no right response to her statement. Deflecting it wasn't even an option because she would pin it down as 'disrespect.' The best thing I could come up with was to ask how my sisters and brother were. It worked.

"They're fine by God's grace o."

"And Da?"

There was a beat, a slight hesitation. Even if it was for only the fraction of a moment, I got the notion that something wasn't right with my father.

The forced tone my mother's voice came out in seemed to be an indication that I was right. "Oh, he's fine too."

I wanted more than anything to ask if she was sure. But then again, it was considered rude to question your elders. If she wanted me to know, she would have told me.

What she did tell me though, was that my cousins had come over to spend the holidays with them. It was a first.

My little sister was handed the phone and as usual, she kept on repeating how lucky I was to be spending Christmas abroad. Her squeaky voice went a note higher when I told her it snowed.

From the background, I heard Ma yell at her to stop acting like a fool. That made me laugh.

The rest of the call was immemorial, I was actually glad when it ended because of my mother's international call bundle running out. My sisters didn't want to inform me of what my father was going through and my brother, who was bound to fill me in, wasn't around at the time.

Eleanor yelling out my name from where she stood downstairs was the unusual but expected thing I needed.

I slipped into a jacket and covered my hair with a beanie, pulling on some mid-calf boots.

It hadn't snowed much last night and the sun had come out today, so it wasn't much trouble getting to the Davis family's van.

Eleanor asked Jacob to play some music, asking if he had a playlist that was suitable for the ride. She got a smile and of course, the finger.

The mall was packed--overflowing even, for lack of a better word. I stuck with Killian and Eleanor as Jacob searched for a parking spot.

Giant snowflakes were hooked up on the ceilings, and gold and silver tinsel decorations streamed everywhere. Everyone was in a hurry, everyone stopped and stared. It was a mix of confusion and chaos organised and sewn together with Christmas Spirit and twenty percent off sales.

Fun times.

We went to a grocery store when Jacob joined us, having arrived a short while after Eleanor had us all join her in taking photos at a booth they had set up.

"What's on your Christmas list, Alicia?" Jacob looked down at the piece of paper in his hand as he alternated glance between the writings and the arranged items.

"Christmas list?"

"Yeah," Killian said, turning. "What are the things you have on it?"

"Nothing. I've never kept a Christmas list," I admitted.

"Never ever?" Eleanor asked as her head popped out from behind one of the shelves in another aisle. She had cans of Coca-Cola in her hand.

"Never ever."

"But there must be something you want... a book, shoes, a lifetime supply of Pringles?" Killian pulled out a green can of the chips and tilted it in my direction. "I don't think I can get you the last one but I'm willing to try."

"Oh, I can't take those," I protested. "You shouldn't be spending money on me."

"You're our guest. It's Christmas. Is there--"

"Hey, what country are you from, Alicia?" Eleanor interrupted. She had disappeared again for quite some time and I did not expect her to ask that of all questions when she came back.

"Ghana."

"That's where this chocolate is from." She held up a chocolate bar with a wrapping I recognised all too well. Kingsbite.

"Where did you find them?"

"Two aisles from here." Flipping the bar around in her hand, she stared at it. "The design on it looks like the fabric in your room."

"Oh, that's very observant." She was referring to the kente cloth I had hanging up next to my window. It wasn't even supposed to be placed there, but I yet to be hit by the burst of energy that would have me take it down.

Jacob cut in. "Eleanor? Observant? Yeah, those two really don't belong in the same sentence."

She ignored him, pretending not to have heard his remark. "Have you had it before?"

How could I not? Being Ghanaian and not tasting at least one of the Golden Tree products would be treason. "Yes. You can try it if you want, it's good."

She nodded. "I'll get the box."

"You're lactose intolerant," Killian deadpanned.

"Have you actually met a lactose intolerant person who gave two shits that they were lactose intolerant?"

It wasn't the best thing to say at that moment, but she made a strong argument.

It took a while to buy everything--most of which weren't needed--and we finally headed to the pay tills.

Eleanor waited in the same line I was in-- unlike Killian who was already close to paying for his stuff a till away. She was far ahead of me, absentmindedly bobbing her head to the mellow tune of Jingle Bell Rock that flowed out of the speakers in the store, hands gripping the handle of a very full basket.

Even separated by a significant number of people, it was easy to notice her. Out of everyone in the extremely long queue, Eleanor radiated pure Christmas cheer. She wasn't hunched over like the others. She wasn't staring away at a handheld glowing, rectangular box like the others. She didn't have a bored expression that made you question if the pursuit of happiness was worth pursuing.

Eleanor was loud, colourful, tasty, with tuneful humming and the synced tapping of her feet. Soon, she was swaying with the music too.

My eyes weren't the only pair which were trained on her. As Killian finished with the cashier, he followed the gazes of the people around to see his sister dancing, her lips parting slightly as she whispered the lyrics. Even the cashier laid eyes on Eleanor before attending to the next customer.

Who could blame her though? Her steps were timely and calculated. It almost looked like the dance was choreographed.

I realised it was.

Once Eleanor did the thigh slap, I had full confirmation that she was doing the winter talent show dance from Mean Girls.

She was right. Expected things were boring. Eleanor--and her performance--wasn't.

~~

Thank you for reading and finishing another chapter!

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By the way who do you like better? Eleanor, one of the twins(specify which one) or both??

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