Chapter 177: Chapter Fifty-Two-3

Rogerio cracks a smile and it's like watching a parallel vision of Daniel being displayed through his father. I see the resemblance in the .4 seconds he smiles. "Who's stubborn as always?" Daniel asks as he arrives in the kitchen, running his hand through his hair, trying to seem very nonchalant. "Your brother," his dad answers, waiting for everyone to sit before eating. "Yeah, where is he?" Daniel says, placing a hand on my hip and leading me to a seat. He pulls out a chair for me and I sit. "Soccer. Park with friends," I reply as he sits down next to me. Joanne sits down at the other head of the table. "I told him to be home by 4 to pick you up from the airport but he missed that, too. He better be home by—" The front door suddenly slams open, cold air rushing into the house along with an adolescent boy. "Mama! I'm home!" Since the dining room is right next to the front door, we see him kick off his shoes and throw his ball without looking into the living room as he unzips his jacket. It hits the television but doesn't break it. "Yikes," he mutters. "Mama?" "How many times did I say not to throw the ball around in the house, Devon?" she yells from her seat, her hands outstretched as if she's getting ready to get up. "We're right here, you dumbass!" Daniel yells as well. Devon turns and acknowledges all of our existences finally. "Oh, hey." He unwraps his scarf away from his neck and tosses that behind him on the floor. "Devon!" Joanne reprimands. He flinches, surprised. "What?" He looks side to side and then around to his scarf. "Oh," he says, quickly picking it up and hanging it on the coat rack. Then, he jogs over to the dining table. "Mama, this looks amazing!" He gives her a kiss on the cheek and I see the anger in Joanne fading. Devon pats his dad on the back. "Hey, pop." "Sit down, please, Devon," he says, rolling his eyes at his other troublesome son. "I am starving." Devon nods and sits down right in front of me. Once he's sat, everyone says a quick thanks before digging in. His eyes linger on the food for a long time before he looks up. "So, Daniel—wait, who are you?" Daniel presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, placing his fork and knife down. "Oh my god. Do you ever read my emails or listen when I call Mama?" "No," he answers, stuffing a whole bread roll in his mouth and like a cartoon character that can eat food bigger than his mouth or throat, he just chews and swallows it down. Does it look pretty? No. "This is my girlfriend, Ivory, you idiot." His head turns back to me, his curly dark hair flopping around. He looks like a cute little version of Daniel but a little more absentminded. "Has she always been here? I swear she wasn't here ten seconds ago." Daniel sighs. "She's been here, Devon, oh my god. Introduce yourself." Devon looks at his hands that are covered in a little bit of gravy. He wipes them on the table before offering a hand to me. "Hi, I'm Devon. The best Rivera." "Gross," Daniel says, swatting his hand away (thank God). I smile because even though Devon is a bit of a mess, he's hilarious and reminds me of a younger version of Daniel that probably once existed too. "Nice to meet you, Devon. I'm Ivory." "Ivory?" he says, his voice muffled as he stuffs mashed potatoes in his mouth like he's going to run away by stashing the whole serving of mashed potatoes in his mouth. "That's a weird name." "Devon!" Joanne warns. I laugh because Devon is amusing. "No, it's fine. I get it a lot. It is a weird name." "Yeah, see, Mama, it's fine," Devon assures her. He turns back to me, gulping his food before talking. "But honestly why weren't you named something like Rose or Sunflower Seed or T-Rex or something? Ivory? Strange." The rest of the table shakes their heads or glares at Daniel while I crack up laughing. I'm the youngest in my family so it's refreshing to see another younger sibling. It makes me wonder what would happen if I had a younger sibling as well. "Ivory is not even a flower, stupid," Daniel says, his eyes chilling out at the back of his head by now since he's rolled them every time Devon talks. "It's material from the teeth of animals. How are you in high school?" Devon shrugs. "So instead she should've been named like...Toothpaste or Colgate or something then?"