“Wow, this is amazing,” I exclaimed, when presented with the view of Itra’s Thanksgiving feast, “There’s so much food!”

“Isn’t that the main part about Thanksgiving?” Itra replied, “A big feast to celebrate the harvest?”

“But isn’t this really expensive?” I pointed out, “I get that you’ve invited your extended family and all, but I feel like just one dish could serve them all.”

A tiny chuckle flew from Itra’s mouth, as she responded with, “I guess you haven’t met my uncle, huh?”

My gaze lingered on her for a brief moment. The bountiful food had a strong appeal to it, mainly because of my hunger, but I valued the warm smile on Itra’s lips far more. Compared to our shared time at school, Itra acted a lot looser at home. I might be standardizing her demeanor a little much though, just based on our small study sessions.

“What are you looking at?” breaking my mesmerization, and pulling her hand to her cheeks, “Is there something on my face?”

Her speech, after the tiniest silence, caught me off guard, so I stammered, “Uh, no, nothing, well, just a smile, b-but there’s nothing bad!”

Again, the rarest of times happened as if it were the most common of times. Itra snickered at my response.

“Ahahah! Yeah, I guess there is one there,” she curled forward as she laughed, trying to hide her mouth with her hand. I recall her pulling that move after our one Saturday study, at the Hangman Cafe.

Unable to take all of the radiance of Itra’s overflowing positivity, I turned away. The only other things to note in the room was the large crowd of Itra lookalikes and the food presented on the foldable table in the kitchen. Behind us, some last minute food preparations were being worked on, but I couldn’t understand the workings in the kitchen. It looked very stressful.

As Itra calmed down from her laughter, a large man, reminiscent of Itra, stood behind the table and slapped his hands together. The clap resonated through the household, grabbing the attention of practically everyone in the home. A woman stood behind him, gazing off to the side uninterestedly. While the man greatly resembled Itra, as chubby as he was, the woman bore a scary similarity to Itra’s brother, Arti. Her muscles bulged just as largely as well…

“Before we begin our long feast, I would like to thank everyone for coming here tonight,” announced the lumbering man, “I know it must have been a long trip here, so we’ve made accommodations to any who need to stay overnight to get their bearings.”

A nervous bead of sweat trickled down my back, as I tried to keep myself as silent as possible. Off to my side, Itra kept a cool gaze, unaffected by the intimidating aura of the person speaking. Though, based on their looks, I’d assume that he was her father.

“It’s a real shame that we couldn’t have Gordon come in here though,” Itra’s father remarked, “he’s a real good guy, and he blesses the food with such grace that it makes me jealous. Oh, don’t tell him I said that, he’d start to feel obligated to come.”

At the words of Itra’s father, many members in the crowd chuckled. I didn’t exactly get why, but I kept silent. Itra also had a small giggle to herself, making me feel just a tiny bit left out. This was a family gathering, I didn’t get why Itra would bring me along.

“But hey, even without good ol’ Father Gordon, my daughter Itra brought a friend of hers here today,” uh oh, “meet Illate, everyone! My girl speaks well of him, a little too much for my liking, but still, I’m glad she can make a friend.”

Eyes from all directions glanced at me, and some even lingered. Desperation began to build up in me, and I turned to Itra, so tense that I’m surprised that my body didn’t creak when I faced her.

“Help, e-everyone’s looking at me,” I whimpered in a quiet voice, beckoning laughter from around the house. I felt a bit of heat creeping up my face, due to this. Even Itra had to stifle her laughter, further embarrassing me.

“Aw, look at the two of them,” commented an old lady, wearing lots of makeup, beside us, “they’re like a couple!”

“W-we’re not a couple,” Itra murmured, pushing the old lady to laugh with delight.

“Yeah, well you better not be,” Itra’s father commented, “no one’s stealing my daughter on my watch.”

“Y-yes sir,” I whimpered, under the pressure of being the focus of the entire house.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Hmph,” he turned away and began to address the crowd once more, “moving back on track, I believe it’s time that we begin sharing what we’re thankful for, Harriet? Would you like to begin for us?”

“Of course,” responded the muscular woman behind Itra’s father, who I assumed was her mother, “I’m thankful for the health of my family, which includes each and every one of you.”

A warmhearted atmosphere washed over the family who gathered together. Of course, since she only mentioned the health of her family, I had been left out, though unintentionally. Itra’s mother shared a very similar business-like appearance when addressing others, maybe Itra based her actions on her when on our study sessions.

For a ridiculous amount of time, everyone got a turn at telling the others what they were thankful for. While I enjoyed the heartwarming scene of Itra’s family talking about what they liked about the year, my stomach demanded for the food on the table.

Wait a minute, didn’t that mean that everyone else felt that way? Maybe this was a plot to make people hungrier and finish the food before the end of the day?

“Next, we’ll have Itra’s friend go,” Itra’s father announced, “what are you thankful for this year, Illate?”

“Um, uh,” I scrambled through my memories to grab whatever first came to mind, to satisfy the crowd, and I ended up with, “Itra.”

A short silence came after my answer, and I quickly added, “A-and all my friends.”

Glancing around, the faces of the crowd displayed an odd mix of awe and amusement. Itra’s didn’t exactly show, as she turned away, but she didn’t seem to dislike my answer. I thought I caught a tinge of pink on her face, but that might have been the orange-ish lighting in the kitchen.

“Your friend acts cute, why aren’t you dating?” commented the old lady from before, “look, your faces went red at the same time too.”

“G-grandma, you’re saying silly things,” Itra whispered to her, “it’s embarrassing.”

The hero of this story spoke up, saving me from my peculiar situation, shouting, “I’m thankful for Itra too!”

All of the crowd’s attention turned to a small pocket where Reti stood, hands on her hips. She went on and on about Itra’s amazingness, and finally ended with, “now I’m hungry! Let’s eat already!”

“You all heard the little lady! Let’s eat!” Itra’s father announced, “Let’s get this prayer done with, and we can enjoy the feast! Hands together, everyone!”

Hands together, we listened, as Itra’s father spoke a prayer to thank for the food and the general health of everyone in their family. I’m sure they didn’t mean to exclude me, but that didn’t matter. Once they finished praying, hunger won over the waiting crowd, and everyone rushed to get their plate of food.

“There goes the peaceful little order there,” I muttered, stepping back.

“Hey, are you sure you want to step back?” Itra questioned, “If you wait too long, you might not get the best foods.”

“I’m not good with crowds though,” I replied, “I don’t think I’ll be able to grab what I want in such a tense situation.”

I could only imagine the amount of adrenaline needed to be able to put yourself in between a group of starving people grabbing at the foods in front of them. Something like that could give me nightmares, if I didn’t prepare myself.

“Suit yourself then,” Itra said, “what kinds of things caught your eyes, by the way?”

“Huh? Why?” I asked, “I liked the turkey and the ham, those looked good. I’m not good with stuffing, but I like rice.”

“Okay,” Itra responded, “the ham’s most likely to disappear later, but I think there’s enough rice and turkey for everyone.”

“The ham looked good though…” I muttered, “alright, I’ll be fine without it.”

“I’m going to get my food,” Itra told me, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Itra made her way towards the crowd and slipped into a small space between the people. I nearly laughed at the fact that Itra had to turn sideways to fit into the crowd.

“You two are close huh,” Arti commented behind me, causing me to jump.

“W-when did you get here?” I asked, “And where did you get that soda?”

Arti took a sip from his red can of soda, “It’s in the cooler, and I’ve been here for a while, we came in the kitchen together.”

What cooler? I wondered, searching the room with my sight.

“Anyways, I’ll get going now,” Arti parted, “I’m hungry.”

“Okay,” I mumbled, “bye.”

I watched him go, just like Itra, but instead of sliding into the crowd, he just pushed himself through. The people he pushed away wrinkled their faces, obviously not amused.

“Hey Illate,” poked the voice of Itra, “I’m back.”

Whirling around, my eyes got a full sight of Itra’s face. In her hands, she held two plates of food, holding them in a way that reminded me of a waiter at a restaurant. I didn’t get why I’d think of that when looking at her though. Maybe because she was holding one of those plates for me?

“I got you a plate,” she informed, pushing it towards me, “come on, let’s go eat, I got you the ham.”

I gasped, “Yes! The ham!”

“Ahahah!” Itra laughed, “Yeah, I got the ham. Let’s go eat.”

“Itra,” I looked her straight in the eye, “this is the best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time.”

“Really?” she cocked her head to the side, “Well, thanks.”

“Now let’s enjoy the ham,” I concluded, “I’m starving!”

“Ahah, me too,” Itra chuckled, pulling her same gesture, trying to cover her mouth.

----------------------------------------

When the night ended, I said my farewells, and I left the house. Elliot came by to pick me up, without getting lost this time. The next thing I knew, I fell asleep in the car, only waking up the next morning in bed.