I grinned like an idiot, humming to myself as I chopped garlic. The sharp, fragrant smell filled the kitchen. Dinner was almost ready, and for once, I was actually looking forward to it.
"Okay, what's with the face?"
I jumped, the knife slipping. My older sister, Olica, was leaning in the doorway, a laundry basket on her hip and a smirk on her face. "You look way too happy. It's weirding me out."
"Shut up," I said, my heart starting to calm down. "I'm just making dinner."
"Uh-huh," she said, not buying it for a second. She walked over and peered into the pot. "Because you're always this cheerful after school. Usually, you come home looking like you just sat through a three-hour lecture on paint drying."
Ouch. She wasn't wrong.
"School's just been... better lately," I mumbled, scraping the garlic into the simmering sauce.
"Better since you started walking home with that guy I saw you with?" she asked, her eyes lighting up. She was like a shark that smelled gossip in the water.
