A lively family dinner

My mom still wasn't back home, and the three of us were now in the small backyard where my dad grew his tomatoes. Those were his pride and joy, his contribution to the housework and pastime. I was standing back, the place felt cramped and I let Souma talk with my dad since it had been a while. Dad had a small pair of scissors in his hand, that he tried and failed to stop himself from waving around whenever he turned back to Souma, who was leaning in behind him trying to get a close look without headbutting the hung laundry.

He kept asking questions about the tomatoes, and dad answered. In turn, he asked questions about Souma's life. Somehow, I found myself caught in the crossfire as both of them playfully poked at me from time to time.

Souma, I swear that I'll hit you with a dirty sock, tread carefully...

In a way, that scene made me feel as if they knew each other and were catching up after not seeing for months, which of course was true, but it started making me wonder if that's how it would be if me and Souma were cousins. So they would know each other forever, and that's why they're close, right? But not live together, so there's still a novelty to their conversations.

If so, that must also be how Aoki and Sakurai's relationship works – When one visits the other and stays for dinner. They probably have sleepovers too, and all that. That's not an experience that I can say I've had, but surely it can't be that different from fiction.

I wonder how many people actually know that they have a popular internet idol in the family. Can a teenage girl even hide the fact that she spends most of her time locked inside her room, somehow making money? Oh no, I'm pretty sure it's much better to say it outright than to leave it to her parents' imagination.

While the other two entertained each other, I unintentionally found myself trying to keep myself company. That's when I heard a car pulling up near the front door, so I slowly walked outside to help my mom with the groceries. As soon as she saw me, she offered me a smile with a hint of fatigue in her expression.

"What happened?" I mean, there's not even that much stuff in the trunk...

"They had me on my feet waiting in a stupid line for 20 minutes because some old man decided to argue with the poor cashier girl because apparently, the time-limited discount had ended like 20 minutes ago." Mom started venting, and the words wouldn't stop coming out one after the other. "And I thought: Great! We're finally over it, right? Ohoho, no, we were not...." She handed me a weight box filled with vegetables and locked the car. "So, I thought, why not treat myself to some 'me' time and swing by the old cinema for a dose of nostalgia, right? Yeah, right..." Her laughter carried a touch of sarcasm. "But guess what? It was under construction, and by the time I realized it, there were already cars lined up behind me. Another 10 minutes wasted, listening to that incessant beeping of machinery."

I couldn't help but burst into laughter at the whole situation. The absurdity of it all made it feel like a hilarious stand-up skit. I realized it was kinda mean, but mom just pouted, so I knew she didn't get upset with me.

"Oh, you have a friend over?" She asked, noticing Souma's presence.

"Yeah, it's Souma from school. Dad told him to stay for dinner."

Souma overheard the conversation and walked up to us. He exchanged greetings with my mom while dad finished up with his plants, and soon we were having a group conversation while mom and dad shared the kitchen space. It got me thinking that maybe I could have a specialty, too. Like dad has his tomatoes, I could grow, hm... Actually, I have no idea how to grow anything so I don't want to pick the wrong vegetable and make it too hard on myself. Tomatoes look easy, though. Maybe I could do that too, we turn it into a family tradition starting today?

At some point, our conversation shifted toward club activities and making friends. Souma had the widest grin on his face as he spoke, his eyes fixed on me.

"You need to hear this... Haruto has gotten himself another big fan at school. This girl is obsessed with him, always sneaking glances at his notebook, practically dragging her chair to sit next to him while he draws, giving suggestions..."

"Shut up, you just made all of that up." That was a complete lie, obviously, but the girl did in fact exist, which was enough to make me redder than the acclaimed tomatoes.

Dad laughed.

"That's a lie, you say?" Souma persisted, clearly enjoying the teasing. "Alright then. Yuina. Does the name ring a bell? Yuina Aoki."

"Man, come on..." I brushed it off.

Dad looked at mom, the mischief in his eyes apparent.

"How's this Yuina girl? Is she pretty and smart?" He asked, and mom nodded agreeing with him while tending to the stove. I was cornered – easier to just give in at this point.

"She's... cool. She's funny. But she's not my biggest fan, though. That part was complete fiction."

"Ok ok, I'll concede. But you two do talk a lot. I mean, she literally posted on Birdie last night that she had fun with YOU. Apparently, she also follows you on Pixels, by the way."

I opened my mouth in astonishment, struggling to find words.

"She went as far as asking her cousin for my socials?"

"Wait wait wait... You know her cousin, too? And you're trying to tell me 'it's not a big deal'? How does that work, hm?" Souma leaned back in his chair, thoroughly enjoying the situation. Mom and dad exchanged amused glances. They were on Souma's side on this one.

"It's complicated, ok? Just trust me on this one, it's not what you're thinking... And we already went over this, like, one hour ago."

He shrugged.

"So..." Mom had been quiet, but she finally spoke up. "You two are friends, right? Good friends?"

"Yeah, probably. Kinda. I like to think so..." My voice trailed off into a whisper as I spoke.

"Great!" She exclaimed, looking around at everyone before landing her eyes on me. "It just so happens that we were gonna leftovers, but you could do us all a favor and invite her for dinner, so that doesn't happen. Let's get cooking."

"I... what?" Souma held back his laugh. He was enjoying himself way too much for my liking, especially since it seemed like I had a target on my forehead. Damn it.

"Yeah." Dad nodded excitedly and mom said the same thing one more time. Not too long ago, I had made up my mind that peer pressure was bad since that was the reason for my downfall in basketball. And yet, here I was, being peer pressured into inviting a girl I have known for a week for a family dinner. I sank down in my chair.

Needless to say, I had to do it.

I gathered some courage while I stared at my phone screen and began typing:

"Hey, Aoki. Do you have something scheduled today? We're having a family dinner, Souma is here too. We'd be happy if you could join us"

I immediately locked the screen hoping she wouldn't be checking her phone at that exact moment. She was. The notification alert lit up just two seconds after I had placed my phone back on the table.

"Really? That's amazing! I'll be there, just send me the address."

Which I did.

I was still not quite sure where she lived, but it took almost 90 minutes when she rang the doorbell, and my mom, speaking in a hushed voice so as not to be heard from outside, said, "Go and open for your friend."

As I opened the front door, there she stood with a bright smile on her face. This was the first time I saw her with her hair down, giving her a more casual look. She wore a buttoned-up, long-sleeved blue blouse and a flowing beige skirt. In her hands, she carried a small basket, but she jumped inside before I had time to inquire her about it.

Everyone greeted each other, my parents were excited and Aoki just happy to be there. That's when she revealed that the basket was for the matcha canelé she brought for dessert. Not bad at all, I thought. But all in all, this was shaping up to be an interesting evening...

No words will describe how awkward I felt for the first 10 minutes since Aoki arrived at my house. And I can only barely describe the 10 that followed. Everyone else looked as if they were having the time of their life, though. Alright, alright...

What I thought was remarkable – as in, surprising – was when Aoki walked up to my mom and asked what she was cooking. We're having spaghetti. I didn't even know my parents liked Western cuisine, but I suppose my dad just appreciates every excuse to mix his own tomatoes into the recipe.

"By the way, Yuina." Souma chimed in, sounding like he remembered something. "Earlier, we were talking about Haruto's art, and he kept trying to deny that you were a fan of his work. But his parents were all excited to hear the story, too."

"Why would you do that?" Her expression was a mix of puzzled and anger. Hopefully more of the former. "I told you that I like it..." She pouted.

I felt a strong urge to hide under the table. Peer pressure was a particularly tough foe.

"Souma that's not even what you actually said, you little rascal." I facepalmed and turned to Aoki. "This guy was all about his made-up story that you were my number one fan, that you would come in dashing the moment I glanced at a pencil. That's why."

Laughter filled the room, with Souma's resonating the loudest. I noticed my parents in the kitchen, dinner was about to be served. In the meantime, Aoki and Souma started talking to each other about school stuff, and even though we were in the same class, I only had a vague idea of what it was. I found myself zoning out, gazing at the ceiling, coming off the high from the laughter. I checked my phone, but nothing. So I decided to message Sakurai just for the fun of it.

"Streaming?"

"Yep."

Oh, well. Let's not bother her, then. She didn't even reply that quickly, now that I think about it... But of course, before I leave her...

"Aoki, come here for a second."

"Hm?" I took her out of her conversation. My bad. She walked to where I was sitting down, curious. And like the flipping of a switch, she smiled and made a peace sign with her hand for the selfie. And just as quickly, it vanished.

"What's that for?"

Instead of explaining, I simply showed her the screen and sent the picture to her cousin. Below the picture, I wrote:

"We wish you a happy stream!"

She actually viewed it only a few seconds later, but no other message followed through, so that was the end of it.