23. Sebastian
Chapter 23
Sebastian
I was still having some combination of an out-of-body experience when I heard the water running in the adjoining bathroom. My heart was still palpitating in my chest like I had just run a marathon, and my muscles were lax as I stayed slumped against my bedroom wall.
I didn’t realize my cameras were still recording until I saw the blinking of the red light out of the corner of my eye and quickly tried to reacquaint myself with reality. I was turning off a camera, the sound of my heartbeat still pounding in my ears when I felt a soft touch on my back.
“Here, let me help,” whispered Clark, her voice back to its usual octave and the mischievous glint in her eye replaced with a doe-eyed expression. Turning to face her, I wasn’t sure what she wanted to help with until I noticed the damp hand towel in her hand. I didn’t get any words out before she gently washed the evidence of my orgasm off of my stomach.
“You can obviously do the rest,” she smirked, her eyes darting down below my navel as she handed me the towel. I wasn’t sure why I felt a flush of heat rise in my cheeks at her soft smile; ignoring it, I took the towel.
“Um, thanks again for doing this,” I called as she retreated into the bathroom to change her clothing.
“Yeah, no problem!” came her muffled reply from behind the bathroom door. I pulled my sweatpants on, feeling like all I wanted now was a long nap for how relaxed my muscles felt.
I was still putting away my equipment into the array of drawers next to my desk when a knock sounded at my front door.
I froze. The water in the bathroom turned off as Clark peeked around the corner with her hair in a half-formed ponytail as she looked at me with wide eyes.
“Are you expecting someone?” she whisper-hissed as she smoothed her hair down quickly.
I shook my head. “No, obviously not!”
“Maybe they’ll just leave!” Clark replied, scrambling to find her shoes while I racked my brain as to why anyone would be at my door at six in the evening. And it hit me all at once.
Fuck.
“Your car’s outside Seb, open the door, it’s cold!” the voice behind the door exclaimed, and I ran my hand through my hair in agitation. Clark, finally finding her shoes and lacing them, looked up at me in an expression that could only be construed as judgmental.
“Do you have a date?” she hissed at me, and when she stood I couldn’t quite read the expression that flitted across her face.
I rolled my eyes in response. “Of course not, just stay here!” I instructed, looking at my bedroom window for a moment before shaking my head. I wasn’t going to make Georgia climb through my window—that would be insane.
Right?
Yes . And rude.
Another series of knocks rang out, louder this time. “Sebastian Wolfe Quinn!”
I rolled my eyes again. “I’m coming, Jesus Christ, Maria!” I called and shut my bedroom door, leaving a bewildered Clark standing there with a deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face.
Honestly, I had no idea how I was going to spin this. Of course, Clark could just stay in there until we left and head to her apartment.
It wasn’t until I had already opened the door to let my sister inside that I realized Georgia Clark’s stupid fucking tote bag was on my kitchen table.
“Finally!” Maria exclaimed, her rich brown coat wrapped around her tightly as she pushed her way inside as soon as I unlocked the chain. My little sister looked me up and down with an annoyed expression. “You forgot didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t forget!” I stammered out, scratching at the stubble on my chin as I tried not to look as disheveled as I felt. “I just didn’t see the time I guess.”
I moved to the right to hide the tote bag with my body—if Maria was anything, she was observant. She threw up her hands in exasperation, prodding, “Well, go get dressed! I told you we had reservations at seven!”
“Maria, you know how I feel about my birthday.” I was quiet, hoping Clark wouldn’t hear this conversation while stuck in my bedroom. Maria tilted her head, her deep brown eyes appraising me with as much intensity and scrutiny as our mother’s used to. She looked a lot like her. Rich golden skin, deep brown eyes, and black hair that barely brushed the top of her shoulders. Our grandfather had nearly had a heart attack (wishful thinking) when she had come to the weekly family dinner with her waist-length hair shorn into a smart bob. I had hidden my smile behind my napkin as he raged on about femininity or some bullshit. Maria didn’t mind the shouting or his blatant sexism; in fact, I think she cut it not only because she wanted to, but because she knew he would hate it. Our little rebellions.
“Seb, Mom would want you to go out for your birthday.” Her voice was softer now, and I hated how observant and wise she was. I definitely couldn’t say the same when I was her age; I was filled with rage by the time I had turned eighteen but she had turned her loss into her motivation. And by doing what I did, I would make damn sure Maria would be able to do anything she wanted with her life; she wouldn’t be stuck under Charles' thumb if I had anything to say about it .
Maria opened her mouth to say something else when her brow crinkled and she paused. “Why do I smell vanilla perfume?”
Fuck.
I crossed my arms. “It's mine, just bought it. Anyway, if you want to wait in the living room I just got a new television—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence before Maria crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.
“Bullshit, that's a woman’s perfume.”
I tried my best to look offended, spitting out, “Wow, I didn’t think you would be so judgmental. Scents aren’t gendered Maria, I thought with your education and upbringing?—”
“Oh, cut the shit Sebastian, who’s the girl?” she exclaimed, walking around me too quickly for me to grab Clark’s tote bag from the table. “Oh, I knew it!”
Heaving a sigh, I slumped my shoulders in defeat. “Listen, we’re just friends.” I crinkled my nose. “Or something like friends. Anyway, I didn’t want you to make a big deal out of it.”
Maria’s face lit up. “So where is this…friend or something?” She had an unmistakable look of triumph on her face.
I wasn’t getting out of this. Maybe the universe would cut me some slack and an earthquake could, I don’t know, randomly happen. We have earthquakes on this coast, right? My shoulders sagged and I rolled my eyes, kicking my bedroom door with my foot like a petulant child.
“Clark, come out and meet my sister or she won’t let me leave the house,” I grumbled as I crossed my arms and leaned against the adjacent wall. I wasn’t pouting.
It took a moment for Clark to open the door and walk out of my bedroom awkwardly. “Um, hi, I’m Georgia,” she introduced herself, holding out her hand to my younger sister.
My sister’s dark eyes brightened as soon as she saw her. “I’m Maria! So nice to meet you. Sorry my brother is an ass.” She glared at me as they shook hands, obviously irritated that I tried to hide her. To my utter annoyance, Georgia shrugged, “I get used to it.”
Maria smiled and then turned to me expectantly. “So, are we going to your birthday dinner or what?” I dodged Clark’s widening eyes as the word ‘birthday’ passed by my sister’s lips.
“It’s your birthday, Quinn?” Clark exclaimed incredulously, her hands on her hips as she stared at me in disbelief. Running my hand down my face I groaned, “This is why I don’t like talking about my birthday, Maria, now everyone knows.”
Maria scoffed, “It's two people, and one of them is your sister. So dramatic.” Shaking her head, she readjusted her purse on her shoulder. “So, are we going or what?”
I pushed off the wall. “Yeah, whatever. Let me change.” I wasn’t grumbling, but I wasn’t exactly excited. Maria looked a little nervous as she said, “Grandpa will be there. He insisted.”
I froze, every muscle going taut as I thought about having to sit through an entire meal with that man. But if I didn’t go? It would be even worse. Gritting my teeth, I pushed off the wall to head to my room.
“Georgia, can you come?” I stiffened as I heard those words uttered by Maria, immediately trying to come up with some excuse why Clark could not come.
“Oh, um, no thank you. It’s a very nice offer, but I’m not dressed to go out, and?—”
“Nonsense! Seb never brings friends around. It would be fun and it’s not overly formal.” Turning quickly I caught Clark’s panicked expression as she looked to me for help. What was I going to say, ‘Oh no, Maria, we’re only fucking for money on the internet, she barely tolerates me! But thanks for the offer!’ Jesus Christ.
But Clark came through with a convincing lie that had my eyebrow raised. “I really would love to come, but I already have dinner plans that I can’t cancel.” I knew the truth of course; the dinner plans included reheating some takeout and sitting with her cat while watching trash TV. And thank god for that.I would never let Charles anywhere near Georgia Quinn. Not if I could help it.
“Maybe next time!” Maria said brightly, though I could tell she was disappointed. Clark said goodbye, looking at me strangely as she passed.
As soon as the door shut my sister spun on me. “She’s so pretty, why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone!”
Rifling through my closet, I picked out a white button-up and some brown pants. I would’ve just worn some jeans, but if Charles was going to be there I knew better than to dress casually. Even for my own birthday dinner.
“Because we’re not seeing each other. We’re just friends,” I dismissed her casually, walking into my bathroom to pull the shirt over my head. Thank god I’d put away the equipment because there was no way I would be able to talk my way out of that.
“Then why did you hide her in your bedroom?” She quipped, and though I couldn’t see her I knew she was wearing some shit-eating grin.
“Because I knew what it would look like and that you would do exactly what you’re doing now,” I rebutted, deftly fastening the buttons and pulling out a brown belt. I ran my nails through the coarse hair over my cheeks; the old man would have something to say about that.
There was silence for a moment while I ran some product through my curls, untangling a few that had been plastered down by my mask only minutes ago.
I re-entered my bedroom to pull on a jacket, my sister watching me all the while.
“I’m sorry Grandpa is coming,” Maria finally whispered, her voice full of remorse. “I didn’t think he would remember.”
I shrugged. “It's whatever, not your fault.”
Maria nodded but looked unconvinced.“You know you don’t have to work for him right? You could leave anytime.” She was looking at the floor while she said this. “I know you stay for me and you don’t have to, Seb.”
Sighing deeply, I turned to face her. Even at eighteen, she had the eyes of someone who had gone through unimaginable trauma at an early age; losing both of our parents so quickly broke something in her. Charles wasn’t exactly a nurturing father figure and thought that as long as we had a roof over our heads and food on the table we were fine. It was me who made sure she saw a school counselor in middle school when her fears of abandonment manifested in her nightmares over our mother’s death that caused her to miss school. I was the one who took her car shopping so the old bastard couldn’t hold the car over her head because he paid for it. I even took care of her car insurance just so Maria could have some semblance of independence until she finished high school.
“I don’t want to leave, Maria,” I replied softly, tugging on my shoes. “It’s just family stuff, don’t worry about it, okay?”
She nodded but didn’t say another word as we walked out to the car, the brisk late October evening biting as the leaves swirled around our ankles.
We drove in near silence to the restaurant my grandfather chose; Italian, even though I wasn’t a huge fan of Italian food. But he was, and he owned a stake in the restaurant, so here we were.
My grandfather was already seated at a large booth near the fireplace, poring over the wine menu and barely looking up as we sat down.
“Nearly late,” he sighed with obvious disapproval as I flipped open my menu. Here we go.
“It just turned seven, Charles. We’re perfectly on time,” I replied stiffly, seeing Maria stiffen at my remark.
My grandfather set down his glass of water hard, retorting, “If you are not early, you are late. I thought I raised you better.”
Silence.
Maria cleared her throat and said, “I forgot to tell you both I received my SAT scores today.” She was smiling brightly, but internally I was screaming at her not to bring her grades up. “1400, near perfect.”
Charles didn’t even look up from his menu but quirked a bushed grey eyebrow at her statement. “Near perfect is not perfect, Maria.”
I clenched my fists as I saw Maria deflate and take a quick sip of water. “Mine wasn’t even close to 1400. That's great work, Maria, I’m proud of you.”
She flashed me a watery smile that my grandfather chose to ignore, and I could have kissed the waiter when he came around to take our orders.
Dinner was quiet, just the scraping of forks against porcelain dishes while I suffered through an overdone lasagna and watered-down wine.
Maria and I traded conversations; nothing big or life-changing, just how excited she was to get an apartment soon so she could get a dog. She had always wanted a dog but my grandfather had always insisted that dogs were not a good ‘investment’.
“Hmm, where are you going to get money for this apartment? You don’t work,” Charles scoffed as she talked about some apartments she found near a college campus she loved. We didn’t dare talk about colleges or the fact that she wanted to go into fashion once she was done with high school.
Maria set down her fork, her lips pinched. “If you remember correctly, you won’t let me get a job, Grandpa.”
The old man nodded, stuffing another fork full of spaghetti into his mouth.“You need to focus on school, not some ridiculous job.” I could see Maria clench her teeth at the obvious contradiction of his statement.
“I’m paying for her apartment,” I chimed in. “I told her we would go look after she gets into whatever college she gets accepted to.” I set my elbows on the table, leaning over my plate and staring at the old man pointedly.
He shook his head. “You still owe me over a hundred thousand dollars for your education, Sebastian, don’t go wasting your money.”
Maria looked at me, her eyes widening. I just shook my head at her softly. “Don’t worry, you never let me forget it.”
Before long, the dinner was finally over. The bill never came because my grandfather never paid when he dined here. The old man stood, shrugging on his expensive waistcoat and buttoning it against the cold.
“Happy birthday, Sebastian. I will see you in the office tomorrow.” With that, he left, and I swear the area warmed where he had vacated as if his icy demeanor were a living thing.
Maria sighed, her posture relaxing slightly. I pushed a hundred dollar bill onto the table for the wait staff; I knew they were viciously underpaid, and Charles never even carried cash to tip. He had proclaimed it ‘tacky.’
It wasn’t until we got into the car that Maria looked at me long and hard and said, “Is that why you still work for him? Why you stay?”
I closed my eyes, knowing that this would be coming the minute Charles opened his mouth about my debt. “He paid for my college, and he wants a return on his investment. I’m paying it back.”
She shook her head, her jaw steeling. “That's not right, Seb.” I shrugged, pulling out of the parking lot. We didn’t talk the entire fifteen-minute drive home, the air tense with her displeasure.
Maria walked me to my door, giving me a quick hug as she said, “Sorry about your birthday. I was going to get you sushi.” I laughed, giving her a squeeze.
“It’s the thought that counts.” I pulled away, looking her in the eye. “Remember, bring me your college acceptance letters alright? We’ll be going apartment hunting soon.”
That caused a smile to spread across her face as she nodded. The thought of leaving the city where her mother had died and her overbearing grandfather lived and lorded over her was obviously something she looked forward to. I knew because it was something I also daydreamed about.
One day at a time.
It had to be close to nine o’clock at night when I heard a knock on my door. Again. I groaned, pausing the TV right as the intro credits began rolling.
I checked my phone and saw no missed calls or texts from anyone to announce that I would be having a visitor. I had just turned twenty-seven, but I felt at least fifty at this point as I dragged myself to the door.
I opened it. And then I closed it quickly, my brows furrowing. Another knock, this one more insistent. When I finally turned the handle, I realized that my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me; Georgia Clark was standing in the foyer with a store-bought box cake and brown bag with the logo of the local sushi restaurant stamped on the side.
“Clark?” I asked suspiciously as I eyed the packages. “What are you doing here?” Clark looked uncomfortable for a minute as she looked up from the cake to me.
“Happy birthday, Quinn. Are you going to let me in, or what?” It still took me another beat to finally move over to allow her entry.
“Wait, why do you have a cake and sushi?” I asked, completely dumbfounded as she set the container on the counter and began taking out the array of brightly colored rolls from the restaurant bag. Clark shrugged slightly. “I heard you liked sushi, so I got sushi.”
I regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Where did you hear I liked sushi?”
Clark groaned in annoyance as she uncovered the vanilla cake.“The entryway. Our doors are thin; I hear things.” She paused, gathering a bit of fallen icing on her fingertip and sucking it into her mouth. “And today I heard that you hate Italian food but love sushi, which you did not get for your birthday.”
I was stunned; I couldn’t find it in me to move a muscle as she finished dishing out the spread that now covered my counter.
“So,” I said slowly as if mulling over the words in my head. “You heard I liked sushi, so you bought me sushi? For my birthday?”
She nodded, pointedly not looking at me as she stuck a green candle in the middle of the cake. Clark opened a few drawers as I stood in shock, rummaging around until she found a lighter.
Before I knew it, Georgia Clark was holding a vanilla cake in front of me, complete with a lit candle. “Make a wish, Quinny.”
Her face, framed with light freckles and bangs mussed from the wind, was illuminated by the soft light of the singular candle, and it made my breath catch. I swallowed hard against whatever the fuck was wrong with me and blew out the candle quickly to snuff out the image of her smiling face.
I watched as Clark set the cake down, tapping the edge of the counter awkwardly before grabbing her bag from the table. “Anyway, happy birthday. Sorry\ your grandfather sucks.”
I let out a soft laugh as she passed me, and I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I grabbed her elbow, stopping her in her steps.
“That's a lot of sushi, Clark,” I said, looking over at the array of food which, to be honest, I could eat by myself.
“Yeah, that's the point.” She looked me up and down. “You’re a growing boy and all.”
I let go of her arm and rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I was about to watch a movie.”
Clark waited, her eyebrows raised as if they, too, were waiting for me to get to the point. Rubbing my chin, I looked around and gestured to the living room where the glare of the TV lit the small space. “You can, ya know, stay and eat sushi. Watch the movie.”
Clark’s gaze flickered to the TV and me, and she bit her lip for a moment before the brunette nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
While she was removing her shoes I couldn’t help but look at the generic, store-bought birthday cake sitting on the table complete with the scroll of “Happy Birthday Quinn” written in green gel frosting. I knew it was just a cake, but I hadn’t had one since I was twelve years old, my last birthday before my mother passed away.
No one had ever bothered since then and I had learned to ignore the day, as my grandfather had always told me that being born isn’t an accomplishment to be celebrated.No one except my sister had cared to celebrate me; even Fletcher knew not to bring up my birthday. But this? Fuck, why were my eyes stinging?
Maybe it was because Georgia Clark had gone out of her way to buy me a cake and I didn’t know what to do with this blossoming sensation in my chest.
Part of me knew what the feeling was. And the wiser part of me pushed it down, cleared my throat, and took out some plates.