Penny's POV
When we step into the living room, it feels like walking into the opening scene of a play we didn't audition for.
The Bennetts and the Harrisons are seated comfortably, side by side on our couches like they've been here in our house a hundred times before. Their polished suits and calm smiles don't belong in our house: the same house with a crooked family photo frame and a faint stain on the carpet Nick swore was "just juice".
My mom is standing stiffly by the doorway, her face pale. My dad is standing beside her with his arms crossed and his jaw set like stone.
Jess is sitting on the arm of a chair, her eyes moving from one person to another person like she's waiting for someone to slip up. Savannah leans lazily against the back of the couch, her sunglasses now tucked into her shirt, and her red nails tapping the couch. Nick sits right in the middle with his legs spread wide, and his arms stretched out like he owns the living room.
