"CELINE!" The urgency in Juliette's call pierced the silence, reverberating through the stairwell and jolting Celine from her daydream. It had been less than sixty seconds – a shockingly short span for Juliette to sense what was afoot. Celine had naively wished for a bit more time, imagining she could postpone their inevitable clash until her sister was almost out the door, bound for Rosedale. But that hope dissipated like mist; with a reluctant exhale, Celine accelerated her pace up the steps to the room they both laid claim to.
The complaint that awaited her was all-too-familiar, laced with Juliette's characteristic irritation. "Seriously, can't you keep your stuff to your side?" The edge in her voice suggested this age-old grievance was wearing thin. Their shared space was a visual representation of their diverging personalities: a mosaic of lavender splashed across Celine's side, posters celebrating her literary and onscreen heroes plastered on every inch of wall space, contrasted starkly with Juliette's minimalist chic aesthetic - a stark white palette interrupted only by a single framed tribute to the elements. Despite their attempts at demarcation, it seemed the orbit of Celine's possessions defied any boundaries, frequently invading Juliette's realm and stirring strife anew.
"I'm really sorry," Celine offered with genuine remorse as she shuffled her collection of books and scattered paperwork back across the invisible line dividing their dominions. She let out a secret sigh of relief that Juliette hadn't decided to lecture her about the sly strategies she employed in their sibling disputes.
Juliette, arms folded as she surveyed the room with an exasperated frown, offered unsolicited advice through slightly gritted teeth. "Maybe you'd actually find some space if you decluttered your shelves once in a while," she commented pointedly. Her gaze briefly scanned the heavy-laden bookcase before locking eyes with Celine again. "Do you honestly need to keep every single novel from that Detective Moony series?"
Celine's dismay was tangible, coursing through the room like electricity. For her, Detective Moony wasn't merely a fictional entity; she was the heart of Celine's creative universe, the central figure in a narrative tapestry she'd been weaving since her youth. "Detective Moony is an icon in the Grier household!" Celine's voice rose in defense, taken aback by Juliette's casual disregard for the series that held pieces of her soul.
In contrast, Juliette—always straightforward and a little brusque—rebutted with a scoff, "Icon? That's stretching it. You drafted the first one when you were what, fifteen? Even through your nostalgia-infused lens, you can see it's not exactly a masterpiece."
Celine felt her resolve heating up like a kettle on the stove. "If I trash them now, it's like erasing my evolution as an author," she insisted fervently. Then she pointedly asked, "Aren't you supposed to be getting your stuff together?"
With an air of nonchalance, Juliette motioned toward her efficiently packed duffle bag and said wryly, "All set here. Packing's a breeze when you're not clinging to every piece of paper you've ever scribbled on."
Stung by the critique and unable to come up with a retort, Celine turned on her heel and walked away from Juliette's smug grin. She descended the staircase just as her dad was walking through the door after a long workday.
"Hey Dad," she said with a warmth that belied the conflict simmering within.
"Hey there, kiddo," he responded, his face lighting up at the sight of her. "My apologies for going MIA tonight—I've got to be somewhere with my brain but somehow always end up losing my specs."
"They've found a new home atop your head," Marissa interjected playfully as she passed by with Kitty fidgeting in her grasp.
Catching onto Marissa's cue, he raised his hand to his head and retrieved his elusive glasses with a hearty laugh. "What do you know? There they are!" he exclaimed joyfully. Then with a wink full of mischief he invoked some old-school charm mixed in their usual lighthearted exchanges: "Mulier cum homo indigent somnia visum," blending Latin into their everyday banter with finesse.
Mr. Grier's thoughts were often adrift in the storied epoch of Latin lore. Unlike others who confined Latin exclusively to the realm of scientific classification, Mr. Grier's mastery of the language was profound — he would casually lace his dialogues with eloquent Latin maxims that often left his kin scratching their heads in confusion. Rachelle, ever passionate about the language, had taken her love for Latin from her school days to an even deeper exploration in college, becoming the only person in the family who could navigate these ancient sayings with ease.
"Got any updates?" Mr. Grier casually asked, seamlessly taking on the task of holding Kitty after Marissa reached her limit with their fidgety toddler. Marissa, now free of her daughter's grips, skillfully flicked away bits of mushy fruit entwined in her auburn hair—a memento from Kitty's earlier tantrum that turned snack time into a colorful display across Marissa's face.
"Just a heads-up—I'll be at Rosedale over the weekend," Juliette chimed in as she pranced down to meet her family after overhearing her dad's query. She threw the words out with less pep than one might expect from such a revelation. "
"Really now?" Mr. Grier couldn't hide his astonishment, juggling Kitty in his arms as he switched his bemused look from Juliette to Celine, who seemed to be fighting off a sly grin.
"Come on, Dad—don't act so blown away by it," Celine piped up, spotting Juliette's need for their father to take her update seriously without the shadow of doubt about her choices or Hunter's role in them.
"I'm totally cool with it," Mr. Grier assured unconvincingly, stealing a glance at Celine whose smirk betrayed her amusement over the pretense.
"But seriously, aren't your finals coming up?" Mr. Grier's worry broke through, as his paternal instinct kicked in, prompting him to challenge Juliette on the wisdom of navigating her complicated dynamic with Hunter while also facing the stress of exams. "You've got that first big test on Monday, right? Are you sure it's a smart move to get tangled up in... all the drama that's going down?"
Celine felt a pang of disappointment as she watched Juliette's face light up, catching a sparkle of hope in her father's cautious words. More than anyone, Celine wished for Juliette and Hunter to bridge their differences.
"You're not wrong," Juliette gave in with a manufactured brightness, pivoting her attention toward Marissa. "I'm kinda freaking out over astronomy. Any chance you could cram with me this weekend?"
Marissa's face was unreadable. "Good effort at changing the subject, Jules. But we both know you need to be there."
Juliette was ready to argue, but before the words left her mouth Mr. Grier cut in with finality, "Marissa, let's not forget that studies come before everything else."
With an exchange of looks that held volumes, Marissa silently implored Celine for some privacy. Tuning into the unspoken request, Celine coaxed Juliette back into the corridor and watched her step outside with a soccer ball to likely pound some frustration into penalty kicks with Michael, constantly her steadfast goalie in these times.
Lingering at the edge of the living room, Celine listened in on her parents' exchange.
"She's sidestepping the tough talk, Jerry," Marissa voiced her apprehension clearly. "And you are well aware of it."
Mr. Grier let out a heavy sigh, one Celine could practically see in her mind's eye as he fumbled to straighten his spectacles with the bottom of his shirt, settling them back on his bridge.
"Yeah, I want them to figure their stuff out as badly as you," he acknowledged with a reluctant nod. "But what kind of dad would I be if I let her academics slip for some crush on Hunter?"
Celine couldn't suppress her smile. It was common knowledge that the Grier clan was Team Hunter in the quest for Juliette's affections.
"A gamble? As if," Marissa chimed in confidently, her voice equal parts firm and soothing. "Juliette's passion for astronomy is next level; she breathes constellations and all. She's not sweating it – bet she could school her own professor with what she knows."
Mr. Grier's laughter broke through, softening the wrinkles that worry etched on his face. "Really hope you're onto something. Why do my girls have a knack for shoving away the good guys? Taylor first, now Hunter."
The room filled with nostalgia at Taylor Moorehouse's mention. He had been the go-to guy for Rachelle until their surprising breakup post-graduation threw everyone for a loop. Even though Rachelle played off their split as mutual, every awkward visit from Taylor reeked of unfinished business.
Mr. Grier poked his head into view, startling Celine and causing her to bump her nose.
"Caught you eavesdropping," he teased with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Do me a favor, tell Juliette the folks have spoken – no more excuses. She's coming, end of story."