Author's Note: Hello again, people! I suck at updating, I know, but my schoolwork are important and I know that you guys understand. Anyway, thank you for the comments and faves you left on the last chapter; it means a lot to me. If you have any suggestions as to how this story should go, don't hesitate to hit me up on the comments or send me a private message!

Don't Even Say It

Chapter Fourteen: I Hate Feeling

VANESSA

Although it's Saturday, my usual routine of waking up at 6 AM and going to work at 8 AM was not followed because Splatburger closed down for the weekend. I think there's a health inspection on Monday and my boss is trying her best to clean the place up. She even hired professional cleaners to do the job for her. I'm not complaining, though. That meant that I could do whatever I want. And by that I mean gather supplies for my Science Fair project.

I am doing well so far. My dad helped me draw the blueprints and even gave some advice as to how I should do my wirings and other stuff. My mom made sure to call her own suppliers so that I could have materials of good quality. And Max, as stubborn as he is, was eager with helping me finish my daily tasks concerning the project. I just had to pay him either twenty bucks or treat him a free meal at Splatburger.

After I organized the things in my room, I descended to the kitchen to help Mom with lunch. Today, I am in-charge of the vegetables.

"How's your project doing?" Mom asked as she prepped the meat to be sliced.

"Everything's going smoothly," I said. I picked up the lettuce and started washing them. "I have some more parts to buy but Max is helping me with it."

"Oh, that's nice," Mom said.

A few seconds passed in silence. Only the clinking sounds of our tools echoed inside the kitchen. The usual scent of salt and pepper started filling the air. The calming noise of the running water joined in. The occasional sound of flipping pages filled my ears as Mom consults the cookbook from time-to-time. For the first time in weeks, I truly felt at home. My mom and I don't speak too often because we don't have to fill the silence with words that mean less than our actions. This is how we bond and I do look forward to the meals we are going to prepare during our stay here in Hiddenville.

Dad's lazy footsteps started making their way from the garden to the backdoor of the kitchen. In his left hand were rusty shears while his right hand balanced the straw hat on his head. Dad loved gardening but he was never good at it. My mom secretly takes care of his plants when he's not around the house.

"Hmmm…" Dad sniffed. "Something smells nice in here. I'm getting hungry."

All three of us placed our food down on our garden table after Mom and I finished cooking. After a few bites, Mom asked, "How is that friend of yours? That Oyster kid?"

Dad kept on chewing nonchalantly but I felt the aura around us shift. I paid no mind to it. Well, at least I tried. "He's okay. Our tutoring sessions have been yielding excellent results. I think he can catch up faster on our lessons now."

"That's very good," Mom said with a smile. Dad scoffed. "You know, you can invite him over for dinner if you want to. Just tell me in advance." At her statement, Dad choked. I had to pass him a glass of water.

"I think I'd rather have the Phoebe girl and her family over first." Dad said rather carefully this time. "They have been so generous to have welcomed our daughter in their home for a number of times now."

"Yeah, I think they'd like that," I told them. "I could ask them about and tell you their response."

We talked about other stuff after that, mostly about their work and how my Dad is starting to make his own friends. Mom is getting stressed out about incompetent employees. And I think they're thinking of travelling to Italy on December.

"Oh, by the way, you still remember your cousin Harriet?" Mom segued just when she finished ranting about how boring golf was.

Of course, I remember Harriet. She made my life a living hell when we were kids. She and I don't have siblings so our parents often schedule playdates when we were younger. She was a pain in the neck. Harriet used to steal my toys only to return them weeks after with some new body parts. Her pranks caused me to cry almost every night. But that one time, when she cut my hair, still sends a chill down my spine. I only had a sigh of relief when they moved to a new place when we were ten. I'm not sure what she's like now. Probably in jail, for all I know.

"Yeah, I remember her," I shrugged. "What about Harriet? Is she in jail now or something?" My dad snickered. Oh, he knew how problematic Harriet was.

"Surprisingly, no, she isn't," Mom said with a bit of a serious note. "I heard she's competing around Metroburg, coming up with new inventions and such."

"Good for her," I remarked.

"And she's going to visit in a couple of weeks."

"What?!" I exclaimed. I literally dropped my sandwich but I didn't care. I don't like to see Harriet! She's too much to handle. "Mom, you've got to be kidding me. You know how much she's bullied me."

"That is in the past, Vanessa," she said while rolling her eyes. "Besides, you can't expect people to stay the same. You were kids then and you're all grown up now. Why won't you give Harriet another chance? After all, you like inventing, right? She might help you with your project."

"How long is she going to stay here?" I asked, unconsciously reaching for my hair.

"About three days."

"Mom, I can't take three days."

"Oh, come on, Vanessa. You're overreacting," Dad joined in this time. I looked at him with complete surprise in my face. I thought he was on my side! "I've talked to your cousin on the phone. She seems more professional now. She seems nicer. We all know she had a... a…" Dad waved his hands around, finding the appropriate words to say. "A… phase. But like most teenagers, she's probably snapped out of it now."

"Look," I took a deep breath. "I can't do anything if she comes over but can you at least let me stay in Phoebe's place? I just can't stand Harriet."

"No," Mom said, now very stern and kind of scary. "You will give Harriet another chance and that is final."

MAX

I follow a strict and precise routine during my Saturdays and it goes like this:

1. Wake up whenever

2. Eat whenever

3. Video games

4. Write songs

5. Literally just slack off and try to relax and get away from my family

I am happy to follow these routines so you can imagine the disappointment written all over my face when the Golden girl called me to meet up in a nearby mall to shop for supplies. I know that I can just reject her and hang up but she offered forty bucks just to walk around with her and pretend I care about her project. I had to say yes.

But then again, as unexpected as this girl is, I wasn't prepared for a red-faced version of Vanessa. I thought it was my fault but I arrived on-time. What's her problem?

"Let's go," she said without looking me in the eye, leading the way to the nearest supply store. She barely acknowledged me but I didn't mind. It's not like I care.

The familiar scent of copper wires and spray paint invaded my nose while my eyes roamed around the store, looking for nothing in particular. I do enjoy my stay in shops like this. It feels like I'm in my element. It feels like home for some reason. Cheesy. I let my fingers touch the cold metal boxes while the cotton-candy-haired girl scampered around the aisles. I'm not really sure why she's so antsy. I didn't bother asking.

We didn't talk after she got all she needed aside from my occasional side comments about certain brands she needed to pick. It literally felt like I was ghosting her or something until she suddenly said, "Let's eat. I'm starving," with a straight face I've only seen to this day. I have to admit that that creeped me out a little bit.

We headed up to the food court, she offered to buy my food (to which I was glad to accept), then I waited for her on our table. I checked my phone for some updates (just my mom reminding me to be home before dinner because it's lasagna night) but it wasn't long before Vanessa to arrive. She bought tacos and fruit yogurts.

"Dig in," she remarked, still with a straight face. I shrugged and picked up my food.

She wolfed down her food which seemed just a bit off. I let her do that for a couple of minutes because it was kind of funny to see her be so disgusting for once. I smirked at how she looked. But then it got boring halfway. The taco shell bits started accumulating on the sides of her mouth.

"Okay, I know I am probably the least person to ask you this but what is happening to you?" She paused and looked at me in confusion. "Honestly. We aren't friends but I know you long enough to note that this," I gestured to her, "is kinda weird."

She dropped the last bit of her taco shell and just looked sadly on her plate. I was starting to get intrigued. "Sorry. It's just…" she paused then looked at me. "I eat like this when I'm stressed. I know, it's kind of disgusting but maybe that's why you're the one I called here."

"Me?" I asked in amusement. "Why me? I thought I'm here to help you with the supplies?"

"Yes, I know," she rolled her eyes. "But you're also kinda gross, no offense."

"None taken," I said with an eyebrow raised while sipping my soda.

"And, well, I thought you wouldn't mind seeing me like this." My eyebrows furrowed and she sensed what I meant. "Yes, I know we're not friends and maybe calling Phoebe was a better choice but I just don't want her to think that I'm like this all the time. When it's you, I don't mind."

Badump. Badump. Badump.

I stared at her for a moment before my gaze shifted on the diamond-shaped taco shell stuck on the left side of her mouth. I grabbed a piece of tissue ad wiped it away. I felt her tense up. "Why are you stressed? Because of the project?" I am not a sincere person but right now, I feel like the Golden girl's showing a more vulnerable side of hers, something that I can manipulate in the future, something I can take advantage of.

"No," she answered when I placed my hand back on the table. "I mean, a little bit, I guess. But it's not about that."

"Care to elaborate?"

She went quiet, as if hesitating, but proceeded anyway. Why did you ask, Max? "It's a bit petty, I know but my cousin's going to visit in a couple of weeks and I hate her. She used to bully me and make me cry when we were kids then she had this rebellious phase when we were teenagers but now… my parents keep on pushing me to give her another chance because she's changed. They kept telling me that she's a better person now but I highly doubt it. I just… I don't know how to deal with it." We were silent for a moment. "You wouldn't know," she said while she started taking spoonfuls of blueberry yogurt. "You've always been the bully."

Somehow, her words resonated in my head. And it hurt. "That's not true." I looked at her, holding back the anger I was starting to feel. "Do you think I'm doing these pranks, these crazy inventions, because I was born a bad person?"

"Max…"

"Do you know how difficult it is to be in a family where everyone thinks you're some kind of freak? My dad was the best guy in his job. My mom accomplished a lot during her youth. I am even twins with an overachiever. Do you think it's that easy to reach their expectations? It might be a surprise to you but I feel things, too, you know. I'm never going to be as great as my parents or even be equals with my sister. So I have to be good at being bad."

Oh, how the table have turned. I didn't plan on lashing out or even exposing my emotions to Vanessa. She just triggered a sensitive side in me. I hate this feeling. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

I hate feeling.

"Max, I think it's time for us to go home," Vanessa said with a calm tone and lingering gaze. With a couple of breaths, I nodded my head and walked with her towards the exit.

We didn't speak as we made our way to her house. In the sunset, they're house looked stunning compared to when I was here before, spying on her and Oyster. The walls almost look… golden. They are living up to their name, I see.

I walked her to the door, still not locking eyes with her, and watched her step inside. Before she closed the door, she said, "Thanks for today. I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah, sure."

Before I could turn back and head home myself, she leaned in and placed a soft, chase kiss on my cheek.

Badump. Badump. Badump.

I felt my eyes widen and my face start to warm up. I looked at her with inexplicable surprise but she only reeked with concern, as if this was normal. "And, I'm sorry about what I said. I know that you keep telling me we're not friends but I wish you would let me comfort you when you're down. I'm literally a call away," she giggled. "Well, I don't want you to be late for dinner. So, bye now."

I stood frozen on her doorstep, staring at their door, unsure of what to do next. I'm still not sure what happened or how we even got to that point of intimacy but I am certain that I might be on the brink of insanity. Ever since this girl came here, my world turned upside-down. I feel weird. I feel weird. I feel weird.

But for the first time in a very, very long time…

… I don't hate feeling.

Author's Note: You know the drill! J