I Stopped Being A Coward, I Rule Now

Chapter 3

Mila and Sebastian showed up early, carrying bags full of takeout and desserts.

The second Sebastian walked in, he softened his voice and came straight to me.

"Tessa, come on. We went out of our way to get all your favorite things. Can you stop being mad?"

I said nothing.

By the time dinner was on the table, Mila's side was filled with everything she loved: cheesy beef rolls, tiramisu mousse cake...

In front of me, there was only a single covered bowl.

I lifted the lid. Inside was one boiled chicken meatball.

My hand nearly jerked so hard I dropped the bowl.

Back in middle school, a boy in my class once stuffed a dead chick into my desk drawer.

When I reached in for a textbook, my fingers brushed something wet and sticky. Tiny bits clung to the back of my hand. I pulled it out, saw what it was, and burst into tears right there in class.

After that, the whole class called me chicken girl for an entire semester.

Ever since then, anything like that made my skin crawl. Just looking at it made the back of my hand itch and my stomach turn.

My mother knew exactly where that fear came from. And ever since she found out, she had made it her mission to force me to eat chicken meatballs.

"You just haven't had enough of them. Eat more, and you'll get over it."

One time she speared one with a fork and shoved it toward my mouth. The rough little bits on the surface brushed my lips, and I started gagging before it even went in. I ran to the bathroom, threw up until I passed out, and ended up in the ER that night.

Sebastian had snuck into the hospital to see me. He slipped a box of chocolates under my pillow and said, "Tessa, you should marry me someday. I'd take good care of you."

The look on his face was so serious it made my heart skip a beat.

Now he picked up a spoon, dropped a chicken meatball into my bowl, and said, "Yeah, it looks kind of gross, but it's actually really nutritious."

I stared at it for a second, then scooped it up and dropped it into Mila's bowl.

"If it's that good, then she can have it."

Sebastian immediately reached over and knocked my spoon away with his.

"Mila can't. Just looking at it gives her goosebumps."

My mother smacked the back of my hand with her fork.

"Why do you have to make everything such a production? Who exactly are you pouting for?"

I lowered my eyes and stared at the meatball for a long time. Then I picked it up and put it in my mouth.

The texture dragged across the roof of my mouth, and nausea hit me so fast it burned all the way up my throat.

But I swallowed it anyway.

It wasn't that big a deal.

The three of them watched me with those satisfied little smiles people wear after a successful experiment.

The three of them were lively and cheerful through the rest of dinner.

Sebastian picked the bones out of fish for Mila. My mother ladled soup into her bowl. I sat there at the edge of the table, and no one spoke to me once.

Then, halfway through the meal, Sebastian set down his fork as if he'd just remembered something.

"Oh, right. That proposal presentation your department has on Monday? Why don't you let Mila do it for you? You get tongue-tied whenever you have to speak in front of a crowd, and if you freeze up in there, it's just going to be worse."

For once, I was not slow. I knew exactly what he meant.

He was pretending to worry about me, but what he really wanted was to hand Mila the credit. That presentation mattered, and he wanted her to be the one standing in the spotlight.

I had stayed up for three straight nights putting that proposal together.

I was not trying to show off.

I just wanted one chance. One chance to stand in front of a room and make it all the way through.

"I want to do it myself."

The whole table went quiet.

Sebastian frowned at me.

"You're serious? That room's going to be packed on Monday. What happens when you get up there and can't get a single word out?"

My mother shot me a disgusted look.

"You can barely get through a sentence in front of your own relatives. Who exactly do you think you're going to embarrass in that room? If you don't care about humiliating yourself, at least don't drag Sebastian down with you."

I looked up at each of them, one by one.

Then I asked, very quietly, "You just don't want me to do it, do you?"