Chapter 24: Sour as a Green Mango

The door to my old room flew open and my brother marched in, his face red and his expression furious.

"What is it?" I asked dully.

"You're a stupid motherfucker!" Archer yelled, storming up to me and punching me in the shoulder.

I let out a grunt from the unexpected impact and then glared at him, my nostrils flaring. "What the fuck, kid?"

"Hey, don't call me kid, Benjamin!" he said angrily, pushing me. "You're the one who's acting like a kid!"

My fists clenched. "Get out," I said. I was in a God-awful mood, and he was doing nothing to help me out.

Archer matched my glare and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's wrong with you?"

I turned my head, my jaw beginning to tick. I knew what he was talking about, but I didn't want to think about it. "Get out," I repeated.

I heard him sigh, and then he said, "Why did you say those things to Charlie?"

My chest tightened painfully when I recalled the stunned and hurt expression on Lottie's face when I spoke cruelly to her. "I don't know," I said. I didn't know why those horrible things spewed out of my mouth. I had no excuse.

"That's not an answer."

I scowled. "It is a fucking answer."

"So you're telling me that you don't know why you were such an arse to her?"

When he said it like that, I sounded like a complete moron.

Okay, so I was.

"She should be used to it by now," I said, feeling a vein bulge in my forehead. "I told her so many times what a big jerk I was, and she didn't even listen to me. It's her fault."

I wanted to take it back as soon as I'd said it.

Archer's mouth opened noiselessly, and he raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Ben!" he said, sounding like he wanted to hit me again. "You're three years older than me, and I know what a dumb thing that is to say!"

I looked away. I wanted nothing more than to find Lottie and tell her I was sorry and that I didn't know what was wrong with me; that I was just a bad person and that she shouldn't take it to heart. Nothing I said to her back there was true, and I wished I could take it back.

But hell if she'd ever want to look at me again. Unless I was being selfish and assumed she liked me more than she did. I probably was.

Archer sighed again. "I just have one more question."

"What?" I asked reluctantly.

"Does Charlie, I dunno, does she become Mr. Clean when she's upset?"

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at my little brother. My confusion caused my anger to simmer down a bit. "What do you mean?"

He scratched his head, just as confused as I. "I can't get her out of the kitchen. She kind of took over making the pastries, and then she started scrubbing the stove, and I just..."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Fuck," I muttered. I sat down and buried my face into my hands. "Fuck," I repeated.

I should've known better than to lash out on her. Just because she made it seem like she absorbed the pain of each blow, didn't mean she was invincible. After all, she was still a human, and she still had a heart. And in her case, it was a huge heart.

"Can you do something about it?" Archer asked. "I know you probably want to stay away from her, but nobody else can get her away. I figured you'd be able to."

I looked up and stared at my brother, wondering when he grew up so fast. "What makes you think that?"

He gave me a look like I was being stupid. "Isn't it obvious? Even I've noticed."

I hissed impatiently through my teeth. "Noticed what, Archer?"

Archer rolled his eyes. "That girl would do anything for you, Ben. And you better fucking man up and believe it before some other guy starts treating her right."

***

The kitchen held some of my fondest memories of this stone cold mansion, although that wasn't saying much. In the kitchen, there was always life and activity and warmth even when every other room was empty and cold.

I stepped inside and was instantly hit with a gust of hot air that smelt like baking bread. I inhaled deeply. God, I had missed that scent.

"Is that...little Benjy?" a surprised female voice exclaimed.

I looked up, my eyes finding a somewhat stout, fair haired woman staring at me, her face weathered and wrinkled from hours of working near stoves and gardening under the sun. "Miss Franny," I said, nodding at her. My worried expression softened slightly at the familiar sight of her. Miss Franny, the head cook and my old tutor, beamed at me.

"Benjy!" she said louder, and rushed over to me. I opened my arms and she hugged me tightly, her aroma of yeast and flour rising to my nose.

"Hey, Miss Franny," I said. I felt myself twitch slightly, because I had been scanning the kitchen and couldn't find Lottie. Where was she?

She stepped back and used a hand towel to swat my arm. I winced and rubbed the now aching spot. "I can't believe you!" she said accusingly. "You didn't bother to visit dear old Miss Franny once! Don't you have a considerate bone in your body, boy?"

I grimaced. If there was one thing that stood out about Chef Francine, it was that she was exactly like a mother hen over her charges. And she became somewhat violent during long periods of distance between herself and said charges. Meaning me.

"I'm sorry," I said honestly. I really was glad to see her, and I wanted to catch up, but I really needed to find Lottie before she worked herself to a faint. "But Miss Franny, I came here to look for someone."

She stopped shaking her finger at me and frowned. "Are you talking about that brown haired lass with the green dress on?"

I nodded, my eyebrows furrowing. "Where is she?"

Miss Franny pointed towards a row of counters. "The poor thing is on her knees behind the third drawer, scrubbing the floor to death. Who is she, Benjy?" But I was already hurrying over there, so I didn't have a chance to answer. Besides, I wouldn't have known what to say. Girlfriend? No. Friend? Most likely not, after what I did.

I stopped in front of the cabinets and peered over the other side of them, and I saw Lottie's form shaking as she vigorously used a small sponge to clean the tiles. I sat on the counter and swung my legs over the side, landing right behind her.

Lottie didn't hear the thumping sound I made, and she didn't seem to notice when I knelt next to her, my eyes trained on her face. Her big eyes were dim and her mouth was pursed into a thin line. I felt my chest tighten.

Why did I have to be such a douche-ninny?

Just because coming to my old house made me nervous didn't give me the right to snap at her like she meant nothing. And knowing her, she'd probably be beating herself up over it, believing that my harsh words were her fault.

At that moment, I really hated myself.

I tried to think of a way to announce my presence, but not scare her. I didn't want to scare her. I took a deep breath and tapped her shoulder. She didn't flinch. She didn't even stop working. "Please leave me be, I'm fine-" she started to say.

"Lottie," I said. Her hand stop scrubbing and she jumped, nearly tipping over backwards. I used one hand to stop her from falling. "Lottie, please stop working," I said. "It's your day off."

Instead of answering me, she leant back on her heels, dusted off her dress, and stood up. I frowned, but stood up with her. Even though I was a head and a half taller than her, when she tilted her chin up like she was doing now, she seemed miles taller.

"We should probably go meet my parents now," I said after an awkward pause in which I realised she wasn't going to acknowledge me. I deserved it, to be sure, but I didn't like it. I was too used to having her whole attention on me whenever we were together.

Lottie began walking, and I hurried to catch up to her. I felt like a naughty little boy, just trailing behind his angry friend and feeling very sorry for himself. "Lottie-" I said, and then stopped. I didn't know what to say.

She kept walking, acting as if I hadn't spoken. I bit my lip at the way her jaw ticked and her eyebrows arched, her nose up in the air. Was she being...proud?

I didn't know she could be like that.

For some reason, I felt myself become proud of her for holding her ground. I was proud that she wasn't going to let me walk all over her - but I wouldn't have anyways.

When she turned into the wrong hallway, I cleared my throat, fighting back an amused smile. "Wrong way, love," I said. My smile surfaced when she made no move to respond, but turned around and pranced in the other direction anyway.

I followed behind her and could feel my nervous self becoming soothed from the mere sight of her - however angry she was at me. My breathing steadied and I figured that I could get through this day if I just focused on the way Lottie's hair fell on her cheeks, or how her green dress flowed down her figure.

I wondered how she knew the way to go, because the mansion was extremely large and even I used to get lost as a kid. But then I realised she was following the noises that grew louder the closer we got. I caught up to her and walked beside her the rest of the way, even though she drifted away the second I got too close. To be honest, that hurt my feelings a bit, but I ordered myself to suck it up, considering that I was much, much worse.

We reached the large sitting room my parents had dedicated as the room to entertain guests in, and I stopped in front of the gleaming mahogany door. I didn't want to go in. I wanted to go home - my home. This wasn't home anymore. I didn't want to see my parents. I wasn't sure why I'd agreed to this. I didn't want to see those disappointed faces again.

I felt something small touch my elbow, but when I looked, Lottie's hands were by her sides. But that ghostly touch gave me the little strength I needed, and so I pushed open the door.

We were greeted by a room full of classily dressed, rich snobs, all chatting about vapid topics or politics. I recognised a lot of them - all from back in the days when I attended the benefits and charities that my parents forced me to go to. Nobody noticed Lottie and I standing awkwardly near the front at first - they just went about drinking their champagne and twittering about God-knows-what nonsense.

Then Archer spotted us, and a smile stretched across his boyish face. He loped on over, and at his movements, people began to turn their heads to us. I didn't like the way some of the men were looking at Lottie, so I inched closer to her. She didn't move away which meant she was just as nervous as I. I badly wanted to draw her into me and protect her from the predatoriness of the wealthy prats in this room, but I knew she wouldn't be okay with that.

I heard my name in the renewed chattering of the crowd, except this time they whispered, as though that made it less obvious.

"What is the older boy doing here?" someone asked.

"Finally decided to show his face to his poor parents?" someone else said in an especially nasty tone.

"And who is that girl?"

I would've lost it had Archer not reached me and clapped me on the shoulder. "Hey, bro!" he exclaimed happily. "Glad you brought Charlie! Mum and Dad just went out for a moment, they should be back here in a few."

I hadn't known just how much I'd wanted to hear Lottie's voice again until she spoke then. "I'm just going to pop on round to the loo," she said quietly, tiredly. My chest squeezed. She quickly escaped outside, and I cursed. I didn't like this at all. This ignoring thing had to stop. I had to fix it.

She flounced away, even as I called after her. "Lottie, wait!" I said, feeling myself become desperate. "Lottie, please! I'm so sorry for saying those things to you, okay? I didn't mean them at all - I'm just a dick! A dick who doesn't deserve you, I don't deserve anything you do for me, and I'm just so fucking sorry."

I spun around and punched the column that stood in front of me. The plaster crumbled underneath my fist, and I hissed in pain. Tiny scratches and beads of blood dotted my knuckles, but I still felt angry. Disgusted at myself. I had messed up.

I should never take a gem like Lottie for granted.

I jumped when a soft hand grazed my hurt fingers. Lottie stared at my hand, her expression puckered in worry. My heart started thundering around when I realised that her eyes weren't distant anymore, but warm and open.

She sighed. "I just needed to hear that I actually meant something to you."