Falling For My Stepbrother
Chapter 18--Thanksgiving With The Sanders-2

Mrs. Sanders chuckles, "Funny how we always remember the bad ones."

"And the angelic ones," I add.

"No," Mrs. Sanders frowns. "The angelic one's start to blend together for me. But the devilish ones are the kids I remember. They've all got a trait you know? Like serial killers with a signature."

I laugh, "You've been watching too much Criminal Minds."

"I know. I'm binging," Mrs. Sanders admits. "But anyways, tell me about you. What's been going on inside of my Harper's head?"

I smile but I'm not even sure where to begin. I tell Mrs. Sanders everything the way a daughter

tells her mother. She knows I'm trying to save the studio. She's also aware that I've made my own friends. Whenever I need advice or help, I go to her. But what do I say now?

My mind isn't empty. In fact, I'm confused. I've never started to feel anything for anyone because of Vincent. Yet, I keep thinking back to Logan and it frightens me. I keep telling myself excuses but I'm running out. I love Vincent with all my heart but could I also like someone else too? Someone with cold dark blue eyes instead of warm hot chocolate brown?

When I'm not confused however, I think of my friends. I've suddenly become aware I'd much rather go out with the Misfits than Vincent's group. Don't get me wrong I love Penny, Johnny, and Beth. But Bethany is my roommate, so I see her everyday anyways. Johnny is Vincent's best friend. And as much as I love Penny we don't seem to have a lot in common. I replace myself relating more to the Misfits, which is so strange because we all have different personalities yet fit together perfectly.

I shrug and look down at my melting bowl of ice cream. "I don't know honestly."

Mrs. Sanders frowns. She reaches over and gently places her hand over mine. "What's wrong sweetie?"

"I'm just very confused lately," I tell the truth. My shoulders sink down naturally. I don't elaborate the how or why but for now it'll do.

"Sweetie," Mrs. Sanders pushes a smile. "It's ok if you're confused. A lot of kids go into college and think they won't ever change. That's the beautiful thing about being on your own and becoming an adult. Sure, taxes and paying a mortgage isn't fun. But you have a few years to replace out who you truly are."

"I've always sort of been on my own," I say quietly thinking back to the lack of my family. "I have you guys but "

"No honey," Mrs. Sanders interrupts. "You've always had someone to lean on. You had your grandma, then the Willows, and finally us. Sure, maybe a few of us were more stable than others,

but at least you've had the support. It's ok to be taking a few steps by yourself now."

I gulp and look up at Mrs. Sanders. I wonder if she was different before college. I doubt it. She seems to have always been a total sweetheart. I can't imagine someone becoming nicer over time, usually they become nastier.

"What if I don't want to change?" I hesitate.

"What if you do?" Mrs. Sanders shifts on the couch and places her bowl of ice cream on the coffee table. She grabs mine next and sets it to the side. "Sweetie listen to me," She locks her eyes with mine. Vincent totally got his eyes from his mother. "No matter what, you're always going to have me here. This family is your family. Whenever you need to talk to someone you call me. And no matter what, I expect you to come and visit us."

I feel like crying I'm relieved. Not just relieved but happy. I know Mrs. Sanders says that now and

I hope she means it, but sometimes people change their minds. I hope she doesn't. Mrs. Sanders is the only real mom I've ever had and I'd hate to lose that.

"Thanks Mama Sanders," I say once I feel like I've composed myself well enough. I'm moved but I don't want to cry in front of Mrs. Sanders. Out of everyone in this world I'm sure she's the one that's seen me cry the most. Vincent is probably the second.

"You're very welcome sweetie," She smiles gently. Then looks over her shoulder towards Mr.

Sanders office. "Now go get Vincent before his father keeps him there all night."

I chuckle softly and begin making my way towards the office. Mrs. Sanders goes ahead and picks

up our bowls before retreating back into the kitchen. As I near the office I realize the door is

open. I lean against the frame just as Mr. Sanders says, "I think you should go for it." "Yeah?" Vincent says quietly.

Mr. Sanders nods and continues to smile at his son, "You've got my approval."

"Hey," I say quickly as I walk into the office. Vincent instantly sits up straighter. His back was towards me as he leaned against his father's desk. Now he's turned around and after the initial surprise he smiles at me. "Are we going to go or not?" I ask him.

"Yeah of course," Vincent walks towards me. He places a small kiss on my forehead. "Let me just go upstairs and grab my jacket. Do you need one?"

"Yes please," I answer just as he begins walking out the office. Vincent stops briefly to give me a smile. I turn back towards Mr. Sanders. He's placing a book back on the shelf and I can't help but smile at him too.

Mr. Sanders used to help me with my homework whenever I had trouble. He's really good at math and chemistry. I remember struggling through trigonometry and Mr. Sanders would sit down with me and explain everything step by step. He was like my personal tutor and helped me get straight A's in math. Without him I'd have undoubtedly failed.

"What were you guys talking about?" I ask curiously.

"College, classes, finance, the works." Mr. Sanders pulls a different book from the shelf and smiles

at me, "Do I need to have the same discussion with you?"

I laugh and shake my head. That's the last thing I want. I already got a lecture from Mrs. Sanders,

I think I'm set for the day. "No I think I'm good," I say before asking. "Unless you have anything to say regarding Vincent?"

"He was just talking to me about his future Harper," Mr. Sanders keeps the same smile on his face. "You've got nothing to worry about."

Vincent drives us to the old park. It seems to have changed from the last time we were here. There's more graffiti lining up the walls. The wooden picnic tables seem to have molded and shaped away with all the rain and wear. The slide used to be yellow, but I guess they switched it out to a green one because it seems new. However, everything else is the same. The monkey bars, the steps, even the little sea horse that's on a spring.

Vincent and I get out of his car only to be greeted by the chilly night. Vincent walks towards me where he takes my hand after blowing into both of his. "Come on," He smiles while leading us to the swings.

I can't help but smile as we near the small set of swings. Vincent and I used to come here all the time to relax. Whenever we had a bad day, this is where we'd come. It's only about five minutes away from the school. During the day, most parents bring their kids through this park. Usually this place is buzzing with life. At night, there are a few street lamps that light it up. Vincent takes a seat on one of the old blue swings and I go ahead and sit beside him on the other side. I start to push my feet off the ground only to be greeted by the familiar squeaking sound above me.

"Do you remember the day after exams we came here?" Vincent asks me.

I face my boyfriend and smile. He isn't looking directly at me. Instead, he's staring down at his feet with a small smile on his face as he's recalling the memory. "Of course," I say. Then add, "We also came here between your graduation and party. And whenever you'd visit me from college we'd come here."

"What's so special about these swings again?" Vincent asks as he cringes at the old squeak. He begins to push his own feet off the ground. I smile as we begin to move in opposite directions. "This was the place we first told each other I love you," I recollect. I raise an eyebrow at him, "Do you not remember?"

"Of course, I remember," Vincent smirks. He stops swinging and stands up on the swing beginning to move back and forth. He's tall enough that the top of his head almost reaches the bar. "I just wanted to see if you did."

"Everyone knows it's the guy that always forgets," I say with a smirk.

"Lies," Vincent jumps down from the swing. He places himself to my side and grabs my waist to bring me to a stop. I laugh as he kills my momentum and accidentally jerks me to one side. He twists the swing around so that I'm facing him. "As I recall you once forgot my birthday."

I step out of the swing and Vincent takes it as his cue to sit down. Once Vincent has sat down, I take my place on him. He smiles up at me as I place my arms around his neck. "I didn't forget your birthday," I roll my eyes as he places one hand on my waist using the other one to hold onto the chain.

His eyebrow lifts up in curiosity as his smirk forms. "No?"

"No," I stubbornly add. "I was just unaware that it was your birthday. No one told me. Not even you."

"I remember mentioning it," He brushes a strand of hair away from my face. I'm glad we're closer together. It helps with warming us up in the cold.

"You mentioned it before we were dating," I shrug. "Information prior to us being together was very difficult to remember. Once I'm in a relationship I guess I don't have a choice but to memorize everything."

Vincent lets out a laugh. Although I think we both replace truth in my words. Being together with someone is like being in a fandom. It's a bunch of useless facts that are probably never going to benefit you in the real world. You love learning everything and whenever you get a chance, you bring it up. But if you ever break up with that person, every fact you've learned simply becomes pointless data.

"Alright," Vincent caves. "You didn't forget my birthday."

"Oh I know," I look down at the tip of his nose. We're so close the space between us feels warm from our breaths. I smile, "I'm never wrong."

That causes Vincent to let out another laugh. When his laughter subsides, he leans forward to press his lips to mine. I pull him close, letting the warm and soft feeling of his mouth let my thoughts disappear and my mind to go blank.

"College has made you more confident, huh?" Vincent asks with a small smirk. He places his forehead against mine as he wraps his arm tighter around my waist so we don't fall. "What happened to quiet little Harp who doesn't really say much?"

I know he's right. I didn't always used to be like this. I mean, I used to be a lot more quiet and secluded. Vincent was probably the person who got me to stick my head out of my shell. But over the last few weeks I've learned to completely toss away that shell and morph into something new.

In high school, I wasn't necessarily the nerd, but I was the quiet girl. I didn't have many friends and I only talked to people when they talked to me. I spent most my time on my phone probably making boards on Pinterest. I'd text my dance squad and mainly hang out with them. And it's not like a lot of people wanted to talk to me anyways. I was the orphan girl. The cursed orphan girl that hurts everyone who gets close to me. Honestly, without Vincent I'd probably still be a hermit.

I chuckle softly and shrug, thinking back to everyone I used to know. It's kind of sad how people are always labeled in high school. "It's nice knowing no one really knows who I am," I tell Vincent quietly. "They don't look at me with pity and disgust, you know? I'm not The Orphan Girl anymore. Or The Willows Foster Kid. No one treats me like I'm damaged." Vincent cups my face with his free hand and frowns down at me. I've never actually talked to anyone but Vincent about how I really feel. Sometimes I let on with Mrs. Sanders, but usually I just keep it all bottled up. Mainly because thinking about my parents and family is the least of my worries. Nothing is ever going to change the past so why should I even bother dwelling on it. Vincent places a small kiss on my lips, "You're one of the strongest people I know Harp. I don't think you're damaged."

I let out a small sigh and nod my head slowly, "I know."

"Hey," Vincent pushes a smile to try and lighten the mood. He kicks his feet off the ground slightly swinging us forward. "I love you Harper Ross."