Chapter 3

Still last week before doomsday

The match was at an interesting point, both players challenging and countering each other with new tactics. Both scored a point, drawing the first round to a draw. At this point, we can see the tension in the air. The audience (aka me, forget the customers, they are still in their own world) are at the edge of their seats. The match can go in any team's favour. What's it going to take to turn the scores on the scoreboard? The intensity increases between the players. Will mom be more pro-active and go for a win? Or is she rattled by her opponent? Nana sure is intimidating when she is on the battlefield looking like a Viking chilling in normal clothes. The climax of this high stake conflict is reeling the audience in. You can feel that winning goal. It's just around the corner until suddenly they both turned towards me.

Oh, no. Oh no no. Fire alarms started ringing internally in my brain. I prayed to the big guy above for two minutes of invisibility, which might have not reached him because of the disturbance in the signal. In slow motion, I see it happen as nana opened her mouth and asked, 'whose outfit is better? Mine or your mom's?'

Now, that folks is a million-dollar question. Can you hear the silence? That is the silence before the winning goal, before a judge ruled the case, before the storm, before...you get the gist. Choose nana who is a natural stunner even at her age, or my mom who is dressed to the nines? Choose nana who signs my paycheck or mom who is a worthy adversary? My face stuck with the deer-in-the-headlight-moment I'm having. What will dad do if he is stuck in this situation? Think. Think. Minutes trickled by as I stared at them both. I looked at them both and opened my mouth to say I don't know what. 'I...I...I think someone is calling me in the back', I said meekly before escaping.

Both narrowed their eyes to slits as I rushed to the back of our bakery. Oh no! It seems that's the wrong answer to give. How does dad do it every single time with such ease? I would be willing to bet my entire bank balance (which isn't much) that I will pay for that fib. I do not know which they are going to choose-not answering them fast enough or not ruling in their favour.

Present day

Pretty dramatic, isn't it? Of course, drama runs in our family, so it was to be expected.

'Bella-Rose James!', yup, that's me. Bella-Rose 'James' not 'Murray' as nana refused to take grandpa's last name to keep the legacy alive and my mom refused to add nana's last name to my name. If only she had agreed, then I wouldn't have faced hearing BJ from the bullies in the high school. But we are not going there. A deep sigh.

So, hair colour- brunette, which I put in a high ponytail almost always. Eye colour- dull grey, not like my mom's-lively and is currently spitting daggers at me. Height- 5'.3''. At least I got one more inch on her, which doesn't help when you stand in a queue. Trust me, I had to raise my hand to get noticed in such situations.

Remember that regal personality of nana, well it totally skipped me- like totally. I could be invisible when standing in a crowd (which I wished happened last week). That unnoticeable. What else? Oh yes, 23-years old, of which I have spent 8 years slaving for my nana's bakery except to finish college and a culinary course in Paris.

Here are a few fun facts about me-

1. I'm a people pleaser. I hate to disappoint anyone.

2. I don't like nicknames, especially that are given to me without my approval.

3. One day, I'm going to be renounced as a famous person for my culinary skills in these parts of America.

4. I have yet to have a boyfriend, in short, I'm a virgin. Credit goes to the said bullying, which we promised won't be discussed further.

'28 hours! I was in labor pains for 28 freaking hours as you chilled inside my stomach. At the end they have to cut me open to take you out and this is how you repay me?', my mom pulled one of her famous lines. There are a bunch of them in her basket.

'Gosh, mom! You could go into acting, you know that? You would be a top actress in no time', I said sarcastically. Truth is, my mom tries to do a tad bit over.

'Really? You think so?', my mom questioned, my sarcasm going over her head, her anger forgotten.

'Yup. Imagine you running for Oscars. Olivia Isabel James', I pointed her name as if it was already written on the billboard. 'You would be so famous. I can literally see myself wiping tears while you receive the award. Oh mom, you did such a great job!' I bullshitted through my mouth. Anything to dodge 'fifibel'.

'Of course, I did a good job. Have you seen me doing anything other than best', my mom rolled with it with a scary speed, as she tucked her hair with modesty. Sometimes, I worry about her being fooled by some schemer. That's why nana keeps her away from the cash counter...I think.

'We must celebrate this, don't you think? How about your famous chicken enchilada casserole for dinner?', I made puppy eyes at her.

'Yes. We will ask your brother to join us. It has been a week since I last saw him. It would do him good to eat at home once in a while. Oh, this would be like old times. Us together, eating dinner. I can't wait. I have to plan so much', said my mom, her eyes shining.

'He must have wasted away...what with eating all those takeouts', I added my two cents, wrapping my hands around her displaying my concern.

'Oh my god, no kid of mine is wasting away on my watch. Oh dear, I need to run for groceries. I have to go Bella, I have so much work to do. But don't forget to visit tonight', my mom patted my back l, letting me know to I hand her and rushed through the door, picking her bag on the way, leaving as fast as she came.

I locked my door once she vacated the premises, silently patting my back for a job well done. And that's folks is how you dodge a bullet... by throwing your brother under the bus.