To the Steadfast by Briana Gaitan

seventeen,” I
correct.
    “Barely an adult,” he
says with a disapproving look. “Killian, you are twenty-years-old. I’m not sure
a relationship between the two of you is appropriate for our family image.”
    Killian drops his fork
on the plate. A loud clank resonates through the room, filling the
uncomfortable silence. “We’re just friends, Dad.”
    “Then this conversation
is over.”
    Killian glances my way,
mentally apologizing for his father’s behavior. I take a bite of my food and
chew in silence until something hits me in the cheek and falls on my plate. I
look down to see a huge black olive staring up at me. Gross.
    Both our parents stop
midchew as another olive falls in my lap.
    Horrified, I look at
Killian, who has plastered an innocent look on his face. I pull a piece of my
croissant off and chuck it back at him.
    “Ouch!” Killian holds
his hand over his right eye. “You got me right in the ball!”
    I answer by sticking my
tongue out at him. “You know I hate olives.”
    “Children!” my mother
exclaims, pounding one fist on the table. Our giggles halt immediately.
    Beneath the table,
Killian’s leg nudges mine.
     “Dad, are you sleeping
with Cody’s mom?” he asks.
    His father chokes on
his food, almost turning blue before taking a drink of his water. “Okay, this
dinner is over. Killian, get back to the house now.” He rises and throws a napkin
on his plate before walking from the room.
     “Please don’t go,” my
mother calls out to the Senator, but he doesn’t stop.
    Killian stands and
pretends to look perplexed. “I didn’t expect him to get so upset. Guess I’m
never going to be invited to another dinner party again.” He hangs his head in
shame, but I can detect a smirk hidden in the shadows. “Later, Cody. Sorry I
didn’t get to try your lovely baby cow, Mrs. Lombardi.”
    “Traitor,” I mouth as
he walks away, leaving me alone with the monster.

 

    I twirl in front of the mirror and hike my short dress up a little more.
Picking up my phone, I dial Violet’s number.
    “Hello?”
    “I’m having second
thoughts about this orange dress. I mean, who wears orange to a prom anyway?”
    “The orange was way
hot, but like I said. This whole prom thing is stupid anyways. I can’t believe
you’re going.”
    “Don’t be jealous,” I
tease. 
    The doorbell rings.
    “Is Mischa going to be
at the bonfire?” The entire after party will be mainly seniors and juniors, so
it’s a possibility.
    “I don’t know. He’s
been pretty busy.”
    “I noticed he’s been
out of school.” I try to make everything come out natural, but it’s hard.
    “Yeah, things have
been…not good. I’ll tell you more about it later.”
    The doorbell rings
again.
    “Killian’s here. Gotta
go.” I hang up and grab my purse. No more than a second passes before I hear
Killian calling my name from outside my window. I push it open and stick my
head out.
    “Why are you screaming?
I have a front door.”
    He pops the collar on
his white suit and spins around. “I feel like I’m reliving high school. I don’t
like this.”
    “Why not? You were Mr.
Popular. Everyone loved you.”
    “I have a surprise.
Come over when you’re ready.”
    “Your dad isn’t home?”
    “Senate, remember? How
about your mom?”
    “Gone, too.”
    “Awesome. Hurry up.
I’ll be inside waiting.”
    “I’m coming, I’m
coming.” I shut my window and slip into my heels before heading downstairs.
    I walk across my front
yard to Killian’s front porch and let myself in.
    “Killian?”
    “In here!”
    I follow the sound of
his voice into the kitchen where he stands in front of a small table set with
candles and flowered china. There’s an intimacy in the air, probably from the
dim lighting. No one’s ever gone all out like this before. Killian has his
digital camcorder in his hand, pointed straight at me. A little camera shy, I
cover my face.
    “Why are you filming
me?”
    He makes a slight bow
before